THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 

r 

®' 

THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 

.Vr'^i 


BLOOM  AND  BRIER. 


BLUUM   AND   BRIER; 


OR, 


AS  I  SAW  IT,  LONG  AGO, 


%  Southern  |^omimce. 


BY 


WILLIAM  FALCONER. 


^-ts 


PHILADELPHIA: 
CLAXTON,  REMSEN  &  HAFFELFINGER. 
MONTGOMERY.  ALA. :  JOEL  WHITE. 
1870. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1870,  by 

CLAXTON,  REMSEN  &  HAFFELFINGER, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Coiirt  of  the  United  States  in  and  for 

the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 

STEREOTYPED  BY  J.  FAGAX  *  SOX.  PRINTED  BY  MOOBE  BROTHERS. 


I 


pdicat^d 


TO   MY   FRIEND 
HENRY   W.   HILLIARD, 

OF   AUGUSTA,    G  A. 


T 


HIS  flashing  effort  at  the  portrayal  of  Southern  life 
may  be  drawn  with  a  feeble  hand,  but  it  is  as  I  saw  it, 
and  as  I  understood  it ;  and  however  much  it  may  fail  in 
artistic  finish,  it,  at  least,  possesses  the  virtue  of  truth  in  its 
spirit,  and*  points  to  a  prouder,  and  a  more  magisterial 
period  than  was  ever  held  by  any  other  modern  people  of 
the  earth ;  and,  alas !  prouder,  too,  than  we,  ourselves,  will 
ever  hold  again. 

The  quiet  and  conscious  grandeur  of  the  South,  during 
the  Slave  regime,  swept  as  far  beyond  that  of  any  other 
order  of  society,  as  one  planet  sweeps  beyond  another  in 
the  splendor  of  its  light,  and  the  radius  of  its  orbit.  Roy- 
alty, itself,  could  not  claim,  through  the  authority  of  the 
throne,  that  nameless  homage  and  social  power  which  the 
Southron  was  born  to,  and  receiving  the  one  so  unostenta- 
tiously, and  wielding  the  other  so  gracefully  and  so  kindly. 
Nature  herself,  as  if  careful  of  the  history  and  position 
held  by  the  South,  did  not  permit  her  to  drag  through  a 
long,  dreary  story  of  decay,  but  let  her  fall  from  the  high- 
est point  of  culmination,  amid  the  wrecks  of  her  splendid 

vii 

602891 


VIU  DEDICATION. 

fortunes,  and  the  lances  of  her  peerless  chivalry ;  and  even 
now,  in  her  prostrated  condition,  she  lies  like  the  Spartan 
upon  her  shield,  \Nuth  the  flames  of  an  eternal  fame  ascend- 
ing from  the  crumbled  altars  of  her  past  glory ;  her  ancient 
prowess,  and  her  honor,  blazing  so  dazzlingly  too,  as  to 
sear  the  very  eyeballs  of  those  who  would  now  look  upon 
her  nakedness,  or  dare  to  jeer  it.  The  nameless  numbers 
ofher  conquerors  are  even  forbidden  all  honor  in  the  fall  of 
the  victim,  and  all  participation  in  the  rites  of  the  sac- 
rifice, but  the  rather,  are  condemned  to  feel  their  hearts  to 
wither  with  a  silent  hate,  as  they  see  the  lonely  cortege 
passing  on  to  history  and  to  immortality. 

To  Southern  excellency  and  eminence  in  letters,  and  in 
statesmanship  in  the  time  that  is  gone,  you,  sir  —  permit 
me  to  say  it  —  contributed  your  full  share,  in  the  brilliancy 
of  a  classic  oratory,  and  in  the  beauty  and  strength  of  a 
flowing  pen ;  and  let  the  mutations  of  fortune  have  been 
what  they  may,  or  for  the  future  be  what  they  will,  you 
can  now,  in  the  evening  of  your  life,  rest  satisfied  with  what 
you  accomplished  in  its  morning,  and  that  nothing  can 
destroy  your  relationship  to  the  unfading  glory  of  your 
own  great  people,  and  of  your  own  lovely  South. 

Believing  that,  outside  of  all  consideration  for  the  liter- 
ary merit  of  this  light  romance,  you  will  properly  appre- 
ciate the  feeling  which  prompts  me  to  take  this  liberty 
with  your  name,  I  remain, 

Very  truly  yours, 

THE   AUTHOR. 

Snowdoun, 

Montgomery  Co.,  Ala., 

March,  1870, 


PREFACE. 


rpHE  following  story  —  if  by  grace  it  may  be  called  a 
-L  story  —  is  only  intended  to  represent  Southern  life,  in 
certain  coteries,  as  it  existed  under  the  old  regime,  and 
to  represent  the  same  by  contrast,  under  the  present.  In 
doing  this,  I  probably  have  made  some  remarks  upon  North- 
ern society,  which  under  ordinary  circumstances  might 
seem  to  deserve  apology;  but  as  these  are  not  only,  not 
ordinary,  but  anomalous,  I  shall  quietly  wait  to  have  them 
pointed  out,  when  I  will  take  pleasure  in  making  the 
amende  ho7iorable,  as  I  would  not  w^illingly  wrong  any  part 
of  my  country,  or  any  class  of  my  countrymen. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  author  will  suggest  the  idea,  that 
no  people  who  persistently  strive  in  the  cause  of  their  own 
degradation,  and  loudly  boast  through  their  lawmakers  and 
representative  men  at  large,  of  their  successes  in  that  di- 
rection, can  expect  many  bright  touches  of  either  pen  or 
pencil,  from  outside  sources.  A  people,  no  less  than  an 
individual,  must  respect  their  own  dignity  before  they  can 
secure  the  respect  of  others.  No  outside  attributes,  of 
whatever  excellence,  can  secure  them  against  merited  con- 
tempt, for  a  violation  of  this  vital  law.  Much  less  will  they 
do  this,  where  political  science  is  biased  by  every  possible 


X  PREFACE. 

obliquity,  where  religion  tinctured  with  infidelity,  is  made 
attractive  by  the  license  which  it  gives,  and  where  social 
organization  is  vitiated  by  breeding  and  countenancing  every 
abnormal  interpolation. 

No,  my  friends,  you  must  not  expect  us  to  respect  you 
while  such  vices  of  omission  and  commission  stream  pend- 
ent from  every  limb  of  your  moral,  social,  and  political, 
organization. 

If  you  wish  our  regard,  purify  the  fountains  of  your  social, 
political,  and  religious  life,  of  its  deadly  heresies ;  cease  to 
paint  your  literature  in  the  meretricious  colors  of  the  bawd, 
the  blasphemer,  the  reviler,  the  hypocrite,  and  the  slan- 
derer !  and  forbid  your  chief  men  longer  to  boast  of  the 
low  level  to  which  they  have  reduced  your  society. 

Some  things  have  been  said  of  negroes  in  these  pages, 
and  said  by  one  who  knows  them  perfectly,  and  is  willing 
to  credit  them  with  every  good  quality  they  possess ;  and 
yet,  he  could  not,  if  he  would,  concede  either  their  intel- 
lectual, moral,  or  social  equality,  with  his  own  race,  let  that 
race  sink  to  what  it  may ;  and,  therefore,  is  not  willing  to 
so  degrade  himself,  as  to  assert  the  African's  capacity  for 
holding  the  high  places  of  enlightened  society,  and  joyfully 
inviting  him  to  occupy  them  —  nor  so  to  stultify  himself,  as 
to  assert  the  peculiar  glutinous  mucilage  of  negro  intellect, 
as  spilled  out  in  the  legislative  hall  and  the  lecture -room, 
to  be  the  finest  lubricator  of  the  philosophic  frame  and 
jointwork  of  society. 

These  may  all  be  the  media  through  which  are  to  come 
those  organic  changes,  so  certainly,  positively,  indicated  in 
American  sociology.     They  may  indeed  be  the  significant 


PREFACE.  XI 

agencies,  and  yet  they  are  vessels  of  dishonor,  and  the 
penalties  attending  their  U8e  will  be  terrible  indeed.  At 
least,  we  shall  be  our  own  judges  of  these  matters,  and  of  a 
people  to  whom  they  relate.  In  connection  with  this,  it 
may  not  be  improper  to  remark,  that  second  to  this  in  sig- 
nificance of  sectional  degeneracy,  is  the  occupancy  of  the 
lecture-room  by  females  of  questionable  fame  and  character, 
in  advocacy  of  a  class  of  subjects  ill-omened  at  best,  in 
theory,  and  certainly  degrading  and  unchaste  in  practice. 
Drive  these  female  nuisances  out!  drive  them  home!  if 
they  have  any,  ye  men  of  the  North  I  If  they  have  none, 
drive  them  to  the  house  of  correction!  and  by  that  much, 
your  society  will  be  purified  and  elevated. 

Though,  as  we  have  said,  these  things  may  be  the  media, 
through  which  American  society  will  pass  on  to  its  great 
REVOLUTION  —  they  themselves  are  not  to  be  revered,  how- 
ever desirable  the  change  may  be  which  they  foreshadow. 

Changes,  great  organic  changes !  are  certainly  ahead. 
Your  own  men  will  overthrow  you  ;  their  apparent  wealth 
is  not  legitimate,  it  is  the  price  of  blood,  the  representative 
of  civil  strife  —  fratricidal  blood  —  and  is  the  price  of  our 
property,  wrongfully  carried  to  their  credit  on  their  own 
ledgers.  Planted  in  corruption,  it  has  sprouted  up  in 
dragon's  teeth,  and  will  yet  tear  your  flesh. 

The  question  is— ^Vhat  next?  When?  and  Who?  There 
is  ONE  among  ye  who  might  if  he  would.  We  shall  see. 

The  Author. 


BLOOM  AND  BRIER; 


OR, 


AS  I  SAW  IT,  LONG  AGO. 
Part  I. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

THE  author  of  this  story  of  Southern  life  has  hereto- 
fore always  been  a  reader  of  romances,  and  not  a 
writer  of  them  ;  as  he  knows  nothing,  therefore,  of  author- 
craft,  beyond  a  mere  appreciation  of  it  in  those  who  do, 
he  deprecates  in  timely  advance  the  censure  of  the  reader. 
Now  quoth  the  reader,  "  Why,  sir,  do  you  attempt  that  of 
which  you  are  ignorant  ?  " 

Ah !  that 's  the  mystery,  and  quite  as  great  a  one  to 
him  as  to  any  one  —  but  it  is  too  late  now  to  retrace  the 
step ;  the  story  is  already  named,  and  this  much  of  the 
first  chapter  already  writ;  too  late  now,  dear  friend,  to 
give  advice,  good  or  bad:  't  is  fate  —  the  story  shall  be  told. 

"  As  I  saw  it."  Saw  what  ?  Why,  the  incidents  in  the 
life  of  some  young  people  who  were  my  friends,  perhaps, 
"  long  ago  ;  "  and  could  they  be  written  out  as  beautifully 
as  my  memory  pictures  them  to  my  sad,  old  heart,  they 
would  make  a  pretty  story  indeed. 

2  "  13 


14  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  It  must  be  memory,  then,  at  work,"  quoth  again  the 
astute  reader, 

♦* .  .  .  watching  o'er  the  sad  review 
Of  joys  that  faded  like  the  morning  dew." 

Yes,  perhaps  it  is ;  and  if  feeling  was  poetry,  there  would 
be  many  poets  ;  and  if  memory  could  be  transferred  to 
paper,  there  would  be  many  a  tenderer,  sweeter  romance 
than  ever  yet  was  written.  All  the  feeling,  sentiment, 
and  inspiration  of  a  story  is  thus  upon  me ;  but  whether  I 
shall  ever  convey  it,  or  even  a  part,  to  the  reader,  is  the 
thing  I  have  now  undertaken. 

"  Ah  !  happy  years !  Once  more,  who  would  not  be  a 
boy?" 

The  gurgling  of  an  old  man's  memories  hath  often  fallen 
upon  my  ear  as  the  softest  music ;  and  if  it  be  to  others  as 
it  hath  been  to  me,  my  story  will  not  be  all  a  failure. 
For,  as  I  have  already  intimated,  it  is  but  to  be  a  little 
love  story,  compounded  of  things  familiar  to  me  in  the 
happier  days  of  a  bright,  young  life,  long,  long  ago ;  and 
I  have  undertaken  to  write  it,  well  nigh  as  much  for  the 
pleasure  of  those  of  my  own  age  as  for  that  of  the 
younger  people  —  for  the  simple  reason  that  the  former, 
from  destroyed  hopes,  have  but  little  to  look  forward  to  in 
the  future,  while  the  latter,  from  destroyed  fortunes,  have  but 
little  to  enjoy  in  the  present;  and  all  that  I  aspire  to,  is  to 
beguile  a  few  sad  hours  of  their  gloom,  by  leading  them 
back  on  the  track  of  life  to  some  greener,  more  joyous 
spots.  If  the  times  were  now  as  they  have  been,  we  should 
observe  the  rules  of  hospitality,  and  ask  at  least  the 
younger  portion  of  our  Northern  friends  to  participate  in^ 
the  symposium  we  propose;  but  a  wide  and  deep  river  of  ^ 
feeling  now  flows  a  current  of  bitter  waters  between  us,  and 
we  yield  to  the  necessities  of  the  situation. 

It  may  be  but  a  melancholy  enjoyment  we  shall  furnish, 


BLOOM    AXD    BRIER.  15 

but  there  is  often  a  certain  sweet  and  peaceful  pleasure  in 
the  memory  of  our  sorrows,  which,  at  least  we  hope,  will 
come  to  the  relief  of  its  romance. 

Now,  before  we  set  out,  we  wish  it  well  understood  that 
we  have  only  undertaken  to  write  a  love  dory -^  not  a  phi- 
losophy, a  history,  nor  yet  a  belles-lettres  treatise  —  in  which 
we  will  relate  many  things  in  our  own  way,  that  may  or  may 
not  have  actually  happened;  not  intending  to  give  vouchers 
for  either,  nor  to  be  bound  down  by  any  foreign  rules  in 
the  manner  of  our  telling  them.  In  short,  the  manner  is 
to  be  personal,  and  the  story  to  be  local;  and  most  that  we 
intend  is  to  write  something  devoted  to  "useful  mirth  and 
salutary  woe,"  regarding  the  olden  times  as  we  saw  and 
remember  them  —  ay !  and  of  the  present  too,  mayhap, 
as  we  see  them. 

In  doing  this,  according  to  the  plan  which  we  have  in  our 
mind,  it  will  be  necessary  to  speak  of  the  style  of  life  led 
by  that  better  class  of  planters,  who  early  emigrated  from 
older  States  to  those  of  the  extreme  South,  and  gave  the 
true  ring  to  their  character  as  since  developed  in  the 
political  arena  and  on  the  battle-field.  We,  of  course,  do 
not  refer  to  those  adventurous,  roving  nomads  who  followed 
the  path  of  the  wild  deer  as  he  retreated  from  the  sight  of 
the  human  eye  and  the  whistle  of  the  rifle-ball ;  but  to 
those  who  came  with  their  families,  their  servants,  their 
herds,  their  books,  their  genius,  their  enterprise,  and  their 
love  of  adventure  and  freshness,  for  the  purpose  of  building 
homes  and  casting  their  fortunes  here. 

In  this,  no  portion  of  the  South  was  more  distinguished 
than  Alabama.  Attracted  thither  by  the  great  fertility  of 
the  soil,  and  the  surpassing  loveliness  of  the  scenery  every- 
where to  be  met  with,  were  representatives  of  the  wealthiest 
and  best-bred  families  of  the  old  Slave  States  of  America. 
It  was  not  indeed  in  rfiany  instances  that  the  older 
members  of  these  families  had  joined  in,  and  followed  the 


16  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

"  course  of  empire."  Of  consequence,  those  to  whom  we 
allude,  while  generally  the  heads  of  families,  were  yet  young 
in  years,  free  and  dashing  in  their  thoughts,  gay  and  daring 
in  their  amusements,  gallant  and  chivalric  in  their  con- 
duct and  bearing;  and  being,  as  we  have  just  intimated, 
the  representatives  and  off- shoots  of  the  old  colonial 
aristocracy,  bore  themselves  as  such  in  all  the  lighter 
walks,  as  well  as  in  the  more  serious  relations  of  life. 
These,  and  it  is  only  to  these  that  we  refer,  were  all  slave- 
holders to  a  greater  or  less  extent.  This  fact,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  extraordinary  productiveness  of  the  soil, 
afforded  them  the  amplest  time  and  means  for  those  indul- 
gences, pa^stimes,  pleasures,  and  entertainments  which  pre- 
vious habit  and  education  inclined  them  to.  The  sporting 
field  and  the  race-course  were  their  chief  out-door  amuse- 
ment, and  many  kept  both  their  hunters  and  racers ;  while 
their  in-door  life  was  marked  by  that  refined  and  airy 
abandon  and  cultivated  intellectuality  so  peculiarly  char- 
acteristic of  the  old  colonial  regime.  Many  of  them  had 
been  led  to  some  one  of  the  learned  professions,  without 
reference  to  practising  it ;  and  all  of  them  were  familiar 
with  the  leading  principles  of  either  law,  medicine,  or 
state-craft.  Discussions,  therefore,  of  a  political  and  legal 
character,  were  as  striking  a  feature  of  the  intercourse 
between  themselves,  as  literature,  music,  the  song,  and 
dance  characterized  the  social  relations  of  the  sexes. 

With  all  such  features  as  were  peculiar  to  aristocratic 
life,  there  was  yet  an  almost  perfect  absence  of  those  frigid 
and  dull  formalities  which  older  communities  so  gen- 
erally establish  for  their  regulation  ;  which,  though  they 
may  not  detract  from  their  elegance,  certainly  contribute 
nothing  to  that  heartiness  and  sincerity  of  enjoyment  and 
graceful  ease  always  felt  when  not  surrounded  by  embar- 
rassing conventionalities. 

Indeed,  it  was  English  rural  life  of  the  olden  time,  modi- 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  17 

fied,  elevated,  and  ventilated  by  the  circnmstances  of  a 
new  country  and  freshness  of  organization,  and  still  inten- 
sified at  some  points  by  the  natural  influences  of  slave 
labor. 

In  view  of  these  facts,  it  may  safely  be  asserted  that 
there  was  never  a  people  who  possessed  in  greater  profusion 
all  the  surroundings  and  sources  of  joy,  brightness,  and 
hope  than  the  early  settlers  of  the  Southern  States.  A 
climate  of  rare  mildness,  yet  sufficiently  tempered  to  meet 
all  the  demands  and  ends  of  health,  energy,  and  intel- 
lectual development;  a  soil  tliat  brought  harvests  of  wealth, 
almost  without  labor,  to  the  granaries  of  the  planter;  game 
of  a  wellnigh  fabulous  variety  and  abundance ;  and  a  land- 
scape whose  alternate  lines  of  grandeur  and  beauty,  moun- 
tain and  valley,  stream  and  wide-spread  prairie,  can  now  be 
described  by  neither  pen  nor  pencil,  but- only  cherished  a.s 
among  the  trembling  beauties  of  an  old  and  happy 
memory  —  all  of  these  united  in  giving  a  swell  and  rap- 
ture of  emotion  that  lingers  still  about  the  ruined  altars 
of  our  Southern  hearts. 

These  sadly  glimmering  recollections  are  the  soft  and  dis- 
tant echoes  of  a  day  that 's  gone  forever,  and  belong  to  a 
once  lovely  land,  and  to  a  proud  and  noble  people  now 
fallen  from  their  high  estate  ;  but  whose  former  glories 
make  up  the  history  of  the  South.  What  the  future  will 
be,  God  only  knows. 

Suffice  it,  that  no  people  of  modern  days  have  ever 
held,  and  none  will  ever  hold  again  that  conspicuously 
eminent  position  which  the  South  once  did,  and  fell  so 
gloriously  in  defending.  Her  deed  was  the  last  red  light- 
ning-flash of  the  world's  dying  chivalry !  call  it  by  what 
other  name  we  may  —  rebellion,  if  need  be. 
2* 


18  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 


CHAPTER    11. 

"An  elegant  suflBciency,  content. 
Retirement,  rural  quiet,  friendship,  books." 

AS  we  have  described  the  South  at  large,  such  was 
Alabama  in  especial  degree,  and  such  the  people  who 
early  came  to  it. 

Of  that  class  of  gentlemen  whom  we  have  just  spoken 
were  two  brothers  from  the  State  of  Virginia,  St.  George 
and  Robert  Brandon  —  each  the  head  of  a  small  and  inter- 
esting family.  They  were  patrician  in  birth,  and  hand- , 
somely  illustrated  ail  the  generous  traits  of  a  long  line  of 
ancestry  distinguished  in  colonial  history.  Possessing  am- 
ple fortunes,  and  highly  accomplished  in  education,  they 
were  a  pair  of  as  honorable,  gallant,  gay,  liberal,  and  intel- 
lectual gentlemen  as  had  ever  emigrated  from  the  proud 
"  Old  Dominion." 

With  large  plantations  in  the  middle  portion  of  Ala- 
bama, near  the  present  town  of ,  their  homes  presented 

those  scenes  of  hearty  hospitality,  munificent  elegance, 
and  genuine  taste  which  may  be  easily  supposed  to  pro- 
ceed from,  or  to  be  the  result  of  the  feelings,  training, 
and  customs  of  the  Virginia  gentleman,  revelling  in  un- 
limited abundance,  and  feasting  his  eyes  and  soul  upon 
the  beauty  of  this  wild,  romantic  country. 

The  Brandon  neighborhood  was  known  far  and  wide  to 
be  one  of  the  very  best  in  the  State,  which  had  the  effect 
of  drawing  to  it  all  who  could  get  homes  in  or  near  it ; 
and,  at  the  time  we  write  of,  presented  all  the  enchant- 
ments of  a  fresh  and  lovely  country,  standing  boldly  out 
from  a  background  of  order,  peacefulness,  and  dignity 
that  would  have  done  honor  to  any  of  the  older  States. 
The  very  first  evidence  of  which  —  situated  as  centrally  as 


BI.OOM     AND    BRIER.  19 

possible,  for  the  convenience  of  all — was  the  neat  little 
church,  with  its  spire  and  cross  and  gothic  windows,  em- 
bowered and  half  concealed  by,  yet  looking  out  from  a 
grove  of  majestic  oaks  that  clustered  upon  the  gentle 
eminence  upon  which  it  stood  ;  and  next,  the  neatly  built 
academy  standing  near  by  ;  —  both  of  which  were  well  sup- 
ported by  the  wealthier  classes,  but  in  the  benefits  and 
pleasures  of  which  every  one  participated.  The  privileges 
of  the  church  were  open  to  all,  and  enjoyed  by  all,  white 
and  black,  rich  and  poor,  while  the  facilities  of  education 
were  generously  flung  open  to  those  who  saw  fit  to  em- 
brace them  for  their  children;  for  though  the  particular 
limits  of  society  were  well  drawn  and  equally  respected, 
there  was  no  dead-line  between  its  circles,  and  a  happier 
few  than  they  who  first  enjoyed  the  intercourse  and  ad- 
vantages of  this  little  country  academy  have  never  met 
nor  parted.  They  who  live  till  now,  and,  mayhap,  have 
grown  old  since  then,  and  weary  too,  may  despairingly 
turn  back  upon  the  story  of  life  to  find  one  day  of  equal 
joyance  with  their  school-time  gladness.  Its  memory  grows 
fresher  and  greener  with  its  age ;  and  now,  when  years  have 
cooled  the  warm  currents  of  the  blood  that  of  erst  did  flow 
so  softly  and  so  swift,  and  dimmed  the  young  vision  of  the 
eye,  ever  and  anon  there  come  back  again  the  joys,  the 
beauties,  and  the  little  loves  of  the  merry  boyhood  time. 
Ah  !  't  is  easy  now  to  see  the  lovely  little  girl  with  the  jet- 
black  curls  and  the  coquettish  smile,  and  that  little  pair 
with  the  soft  blue  eyes  and  the  sylph-like  forms,  and  ay, 
that  other,  too,  with  the  nut-brown  hair  and  the  mellow 
hazel  eye.  We  do  remember  still  the  noble-hearted  play- 
fellows that  went  there  too,  all  comrades  then.  Yet,  yet 
these  morning  memories  must  not,  cannot  last ;  for  even  now 
the  lights  of  the  olden  time  darken  into  shadows,  and  these 
fresh  and  dewy  visions  of  the  soul  bring  unbidden  tears,  and 
die  away  into  an  evening  grief.     Some  low,  soft  breathings, 


20  BLOOM    AND    BRIER.- 

as  from  the  grave  and  the  slab,  now  sadly  whisper  to  the 
heart  that  they  with  the  soft  blue  eyes,  and  she  with  the 
dark  ones  too,  have  long  since  passed  away. 

Of  that  little  band  of  brother  comrades,  many  long  have 
slept  the  "  sleep  that  knows  no  waking,"  while  others  may- 
hap there  are,  who  still  are  wandering  on  in  life's  long, 
dreary  paths,  and  to  them  I  now  send  these  greeting  lines. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  Brandons,  w^ho,  we  have  said,  had 
settled  in  Middle  Alabama,  and  had  surrounded  themselves 
with  every  comfort  and  elegance  to  be  obtained  in  this  new 
country.  Being  men  of  handsome  fortunes  and  of  a  high 
order  of  intelligence,  they  exerted  great  influence  in  the 
public  affairs  of  their  new  home  and  State,  but  were  never 
aspirants  to  office,  seeming  always  to  be  satisfied  with  the 
superior  private  position  which  they  enjoyed,  and  with  dis- 
pensing a  munificent  hospitality.  In  private  fortune,  they 
went  along  for  years,  prospering  and  to  prosper ;  when  the 
death  of  the  younger  brother,  St.  George  Brandon,  cast  a 
gloom  over  the  neighborhood,  and  threw  heavily  increased 
family  responsibilities  upon  his  brother  Robert.  The 
management  of  his  brother's  estate,  and  the  care  of  his 
young  family,  together  wdth  his  own,  seemed  to  engross  both 
his  mind  and  time,  while  the  blow  to  his  feelings  appeared 
to  change  the  entire  current  of  his  character.  The  gay  and 
joyous  life  which  had  for  years  been  led  by  the  two  brothers, 
appeared  no  longer  to  furnish  the  survivor  its  wonted  zest, 
and  becoming  a  more  serious  man,  he  gradually  fell  into 
other  channels  of  thought  and  pleasure. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER,  21 


CHAPTER    ill. 

"This  bud  of  love,  by  summer's  ripening  breath, 
May  prove  a  beauteous  flower,  when  next  we  nleet." 

MRS.  ST.  GEORGE  BRANDON,  at  the  time  of  her 
husband's  death,  had  scarcely  passed  the  bounds  of 
youthful  life  and  joyous  womanhood,  and  was  the  mother  of 
only  two  children,  a  son  and  a  daughter  —  but,  while  pos- 
sessing every  prerequisite  for  again  entering  the  gay  world, 
she  yet  chose  to  devote  herself  to  their  pleasure  and  welfare 
—  watching  with  most  scrupulous  attention  their  edu- 
cation, their  moral  and  social  culture,  and  imbuing  their 
minds  with  the  proper  ideas  of  honor,  duty,  truth,  pro- 
priety, generosity,  and  affection,  which  only  a  mother  can 
successfully  do  ;  but  which  too  many,  alas !  neglect. 

There  was  every  arrangement  for  her  remaining  at 
her  plantation,  which  she  made  as  attractive  as  possible  to 
her  children  and  friends ;  and  amply  was  she  repaid  for 
these  home  influences  and  exertions,  in  the  appreciation 
in  which  she  was  held  by  them. 

The  neighborhood  had  already  grown  sufficiently  popu- 
lous to  call  for  a  male  and  female  "  high  school,"  and  the 
little  boys  and  girls  who  had  long  been  educated  under  one 
roof,  by  the  same  solemn  and  good  old  pedagogue,  were 
now  separated.  Henry  Brandon,  the  elder  of  the  two  chil- 
dren, was  continued  at  the  male  academy  until  thoroughly 
prepared  to  enter  college,  while  Violet,  his  sister,  con- 
tinued at  the  female  department  until  she  had  completed 
quite  a  thorough  and  an  accomplished  education. 

Mr.  Robert  Brandon  also  had  but  two  children,  both 
of  whom  were  daughters,  and  about  the   same   age  with 


22  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

their  cousins ;  and  the  families  still  continued  in  the  same 
unbroken  intimacy  which  had  always  existed  between 
them. 

In  his  sixteenth  year,  Henry  Brandon,  a  tall,  handsome 
youth,  free  with  his  purse,  gay  and  mercurial  in  his  dis- 
position, and  pleasing  in  his  manners,  was  preparing  to 
leave  for  college,  and  was  new  spending  a  week  or  two  in 
visiting  his  young  friends  of  both  sexes,  wdth  all  of  whom 
he  had  ever  been  a  very  decided  favorite ;  but  with  none 
more  than  his  cousin  Laura,  the  older  daughter  of  Mr. 
Eobert  Brandon,  who  in  turn,  it  is  but  gallant  to  say,  was 
as  great  a  favorite  with  her  cousin  Henry.  This  preference 
was  a  pretty  well  established  fact  among  the  young  people 
of  the  neighborhood,  and  rather  suspected  by  Henry  Bran- 
don's mother,  who  had  often  very  gently  cautioned  him 
against  it ;  but  had  almost  entirely  escaped  the  obser- 
vation of  Laura's  parents,  with  whom  he  was  even  a 
greater  favorite  than  with  any  other  of  his  friends,  though 
known  to  them  to  be  wild,  reckless,  and  greatly  disposed 
to  fun  and  frolic. 

The  afternoon  before  his  departure  for  college,  his  horse 
was  brought  to  the  gate,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  came 
from  his  room  dressed  in  the  handsomest  style,  when  he 
was  met  by  his  mother  and  sister. 

"Ah!  whither  now,  my  handsome  brother?"  asked 
Violet,  with  a  cunning  smile  playing  about  her  mouth,  and 
a  look  of  mischief  in  her  eye. 

Hesitating  but  for  a  moment,  he  replied,  with  only  the 
slightest  shade  of  petulance  passing  over  his  handsome 
face,  at  his  scheme  of  going  alone  being  discovered : 

"  I  am  going  to  pay  my  farewell  visit  to  Uncle  Robert 
and  his  family:  any  objection,  sister?" 

"  Why,  brother,  did  n't  you  know^  that  I  had  expected  to 
ride  over  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  something  was  said  about  it  this  morning ;  but 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  23 

then  I  did  not  suppose  you  cared  to  do  so  particularly," 
smiling  as  he  made  the  reply. 

"  Ah !  well,  I  will  not  embarrass  you  with  my  presence, 
as  I  fancy  you  have  prepared  something  very  pretty  to  say 
to  cousin  Laura,  which  you  do  not  wish  me  to  have  the 
chance  of  hearing." 

"  No,  you  little  vixen  ;  I  believe  I  would  be  willing  for 
you  to  hear  all  that  I  have  to  say.  But  Thomas  Hunter 
told  me  that  he  would  come  by  this  evening,  and  as  I 
thought  you  would  like  to  see  him  alone,  I  would  not  pro- 
pose to  deprive  you  of  that  pleasure." 

"  Ah !  brother,  that 's  but  a  lame  excuse  ;  you  know  he 
will  scarcely  come  by  this  evening,  when  he  is  coming  by 
to  leave  with  you  in  the  morning." 

"  Indeed,  he  said  it  was  quite  probable,  when  we  parted 
yesterday." 

"  Probable  —  yes,  that  is  a  little  different.  But  tell  the 
girls  why  I  did  not  go  over." 

"Certainly,"  said  he,  evidently  pleased  with  Violet's 
resigning  her  trip  so  easily. 

Mrs.  Brandon  had  as  yet  said  nothing;  but  as  her  light- 
hearted,  happy  boy  was  about  leaving  the  house,  she  re- 
marked to  him,  "  Come,  my  son  ;  your  cousin  Laura  is 
one  of  the  sweetest  girls  I  ever  knew  ;  but  you  must 
remember  that  you  are  soon  to  enter  upon  a  very  arduous 
course  of  study,  and  it  will  require  your  i^ndivided  atten- 
tion ;  and  a  little  boyish  love-scrape  would  distract  your 
mind  more  than  you  might  suppose ;  and  beside,  it  would 
be  very  -displeasing  to  your  aunt." 

"Pshaw,  mother,  that  is  some  of  Violet's  nonsense:  no 
danger  of  my  getting  into  a  love-scrape  with  cousin  Laura, 
more  than  I  have  always  been  in ;  and  as  to  displeasing 
aunt,  I  can  please  and  displease  her  sixty  times  in  an 
hour." 

In  a  few  moments  more,  the  joyous,  laughing  youth  was 


24  BLOOM    AND    BKIER. 

in  his  saddle,  and  at  half  speed  was  on  the  way  to  Mr. 
Robert  Brandon's.  A  few  minutes  more,  and  he  was  at 
the  gate  of  "Starlight,"  the  name  of  his  uncle's  residence. 

The  family  were  expecting  him,  and  were  glad  to  see 
him.  Spending  an  hour  or  so  in  general  conversation, 
and  in  receiving  some  particular  injunctions  as  to  his 
deportment  at  college  from  his  uncle,  he  proposed  to  his 
cousins  to  walk  in  the  flower-yard,  and  for  each  of  them 
to  gather  him  a  bouquet  as  a  keepsake.  The  proposition 
was  immediately  accepted  ;  and  the  three  were  soon  busy 
in  strolling  over  the  grounds  in  search  of  the  choicest 
flowers. 

Henry  succeeded  very  soon  in  separating  the  sisters  and 
getting  Laura  off"  to  himself.  A  conversation  quickly 
sprang  up,  by  a  sort  of  electric  understanding,  conducted 
in  an  undertone,  as  though  in  regard  to  the  flowers,  but 
really  of  a  very  different  nature ;  and  as  she  was  offering 
him  a  half-blown  bud,  he  slipped  a  little  gold  ring  upon  her 
finger,  with  the  request  that  she  would  wear  it  and  remem- 
ber him.  This  she  tremulously  promised  to  do,  as  he  kissed 
her  blushing  cheek;  and  the  three  very  soon  returned  to 
the  house  together. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

^' Light   winged  hopes,  that  come  when  hid, 
And  rainbow  joys,  that  end  in  weeping." 

11  HE  ecstasy  of  Henry  Brandon  at  the  success  of  his  first 
-  real  love-making  with  Laura,  although  they  had  been 
svxethearts  from  mere  children,  produced  a  kind  of  restless 
joy  in  his  young  heart,  that  wanted  room,  as  it  were,  for 
expansion.  He  grew  more  and  mere  nervous,  even  in  the 
presence  of  "the  smiling  girl  who  had  just  responded  so 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  25 

prettily  to  his  professions  of  love,  and  in  a  short  while  rose 
to  take  his  leave  of  the  family.  Bidding  his  uncle  and 
aunt  farewell,  he  next  proceeded  to  his  cousins  ;  but  in  ad- 
dition to  his  good-by,  gave  each  a  kiss.  A  tear  fell  from 
the  eyes  of  Laura,  to  which  her  young  lover  responded 
by  another  shake  of  the  hand,  but  choked  in  his  second 
"  good-by."  He  then  left  the  house,  and  was  not  long  in 
reaching  his  own  home. 

Laura's  mother  observed  the  feeling  which  she  showed, 
and  laughed  at  her;  but  the  young  girl  not  seeming  to 
recover  from  it,  a  gentle  reproof  had  the  desired  effect  of 
appearing  to  soothe  her. 

Mrs.  Brandon,  though  a  very  accomplished  woman, 
and  possessing  many  high  qualities  that  were  ever  in  full 
play  as  wife,  mother,  and  friend,  yet  had  her  strong  preju- 
dices, tinged  with  a  certain  unyielding  haughtiness,  which 
made  persons  of  a  milder  character  shrink  from  opposition 
to  her  views  and  opinions.  In  the  instance  of  Laura  show- 
ing such  feeling  for  the  departure  of  her  cousin,  an  appre- 
hension was  at  once  excited.  The  fear  of  a  love  affair 
between  the  cousins  seemed  in  a  moment  to  rouse  an  an- 
tipathy which  she  never  after  surrendered. 

The  morning  after  this,  all  arrangements  having  been 
made,  Thomas  Hunter,  a  youth  of  about  the  same  age  with 
Henry  Brandon,  and  the  son  of  Colonel  Hunter,  a  wealthy 
planter  of  the  same  neighborhood,  came  by  in  his  father's 
carriage,  according  to  appointment,  and  the  two  can- 
didates  for  collegiate  life  left  the  residence  of  Henry's 

mother,  together,  for  the  town  of ,  where  they  were 

to  take  the  stage  coach.  The  separation  between  Henry 
Brandon  and  his  mother  and  sister  was  tender  and  affect- 
ing in  the  extreme — the  more  so  from  the  consciousness  on 
the  part  of  both  that  the  loneliness  of  their  home  would  now 
almost  amount  to  desolation.  Mrs.  Brandon  felt,  too,  that 
she  was  casting  upon  the  temptations  of  life,  a  youth  who, 


26  BLOOM    A  XD    BRIER. 

though  honorable  in  feeling,  and  gifted  in  intellect,  "was  yet 
strongly  disposed  to  gayeties,  and  not  knowing  how  far  he 
might  be  allured  to  go,  felt  very  great  solicitude.  In 
spite  of  all  these  affections  and  anxieties,  Henry  Bran- 
don left  for  college  on  the  first  day  of  September,  18 — , 
where  he  remained  four  years  without  returning,  even  on  a 
visit  to  his  mother.  In  this  there  was  something  of  the 
vanity  of  young  collegians,  in  having  to  tell  how  long  they 
have- been  absent  from  home,  and  of  laying  up  an  increased 
interest  for  themselves  in  the  hearts  of  their  friends. 

This  little  romantic  sort  of  conceit,  together  with  a  desire 
to  visit  the  various  points  of  interest  in  the  Northern  States, 
and  to  observe  the — to  a  Southerner — idiosyncrasies  of  that 
people,  was  the  excuse  of  his  not  returning  South  during 
his  vacations. 

His  general  course  at  college  was  somewhat  eccentric, 
and  he  was  often  held  accountable  for  his  youthful  irregu- 
larities, though  always  managing  to  be  "  excused."  Having 
been  thoroughly  "  prepared  "  before  leaving  home,  he  found 
no  difficulty  in  maintaining  a  good  "average"  in  his  class, 
while  it  left  him  time  for  indulging  in  many  reckless 
amusements,  such  as  college-life  affords  all  opportunities  for, 
to  those  who  are  inclined  to  indulge  in  them.  In  this  wise 
he  was  not  distinguished  for  his  accurate  scholarship, 
though  universally  recognized  as  possessing  a  high  order  of 
talents,  and  even  genius,  both  by  professors  and  students, 
and  was  so  much  a  favorite  with  the  former,  that,  as  we 
have  already  intimated,  neither  his  delinquencies  nor 
offences  were  ever  visited  but  with  the  lightest  penalties, 
or  excused.  By  his  long,  unbroken  residence,  his  profuse 
liberality,  his  rich  and  graceful  style  of  dress,  his  spirited 
and  pleasing  manners,  he  was  as  well  known  to  the  citizens 

of as  one  of  their  own  young  men,  and  there  were  but 

few  social  entertainments  given  to  which  the  gay,  dashing, 
and  handsome  young  Southerner  was  not  an  invited  and  a 


liJ.OOM    AND    BIIIEK.  27 

welcome  guest.  Such  were  the  salient  points  in  the  youth- 
ful and  educational  history  of  the  hero  of  our  story.  Thoso 
of  his  manhood  we  will  permit  to  develop  themselves  as 
we  proceed. 

Thomas  Hunter,  his  classmate  at  home  and  at  college,  and 
room-mate  there  too,  was  more  sedate,  more  reserved,  and 
far  more  scholarly  in  his  course  and  attainments,  yet  neither 
so  well  known  nor  so  popular.  During  the  nearly  four 
years  of  his  absence,  he  had  regularly  returned  to  Alabama 
during  every  summer  vacation,  and  from  the  old  family 
intimacy,  and  the  intimacy  at  college  between  himself  and 
Henry  Brandon,  always  made  it  a  point  to  spend  much  of 
his  time  at  Mrs.  Brandon's  —  while  Violet,  who  was  growino- 
up  to  be  a  very  beautiful  and  an  accomplished  girl,  may 
naturally  be  suj^posed  to  have  been  not  the  least  attraction 
there. 

Though  a  young  fellow  of  fine  common  sense  and  great 
good -nature,  he  was  thoughtful,  poetical,  musical,  and 
slightly  disposed  to  sensitiveness ;  and,  when  conceiving 
himself  trespassed  upon,  had  all  the  spirit  of  the  lion. 

Only  a  few  months  before  his  graduating  "commence- 
ment," he  had  reason  to  believe  that  an  insult  had  been  in- 
tended him,  by  a  classmate,  who  was  much  his  superior  in 
physical  strength,  but  this  fact  was  no  preventive,  and  illus- 
trated this  feature  in  his  character,  by  immediately  makino- 
an  attack  upon  him ;  and  in  the  course  of  the  rencontre, 
freely  used  his  knife,  and  perhaps  might  have  done  so  to  a 
mortal  extent,  had  he  not  been  prevented  by  young  Bran- 
don. The  latter,  immediately  seeing  the  probable  result 
of  such  an  act  in  a  Puritanic  old  community,  who  were 
accustomed  to  hearing  the  lie  given,  and  a  retort  of  the 
accusation  as  the  settlement  of  the  difficulty,  advised  him 
to  leave  for  the  South  without  an  hour's  delay.  Adopting 
the  advice,  he  thus  preceded  the  return  of  Henry  Brandon  " 
by  several  months. 


28  BLOOM    AND    BRIER, 


CHAPTER    y. 

"  The  proper  means  of  increasing  the  love  we  bear  our  Native  Country, 
is  to  reside  some  time  in  a  foreign  one."  —  Shenstone. 

HENRY  BRANDON  was  now  in  his  twenty-first  year, 
and  was  once  again  at  the  home  of  his  wild,  uncon- 
trolled, merry  boyhood.  The  morning  after  his  arrival  at 
the  town  of ,  he  left  the  hotel  in  search  of  a  convey- 
ance to  his  mother's,  and,  while  walking  along  the  street, 
casually  met  with  his  old  friend  Thomas  Hunter,  accom- 
panied by  a  young  gentleman,  named  Campbell,  of  whom 
he  had  heard,  through  letters  from  his  cousin  Laura,  as  an 
admirer  of  Lucy  Brandon,  Laura's  younger  sister ;  but  had 
never  seen  him,  as  he  had  become  a  citizen  since  his 
absence,  as  a  young  lawyer  from  Virginia,  and  by  invita- 
tion of  Mr.  Robert  Brandon,  who  was  an  early  friend  of 
Campbell's  father. 

The  joy  of  the  two  young  college-mates  can  easily  be  im- 
agined, while  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe,  which  young 
Campbell  appeared  equally  to  enjoy  from  sympathy. 

The  latter  directly  excused  himself,  and  left  them 
to  themselves,  who,  after  an  hour  or  two  of  running 
conversation,  separated,  with  the  understanding  that 
Hunter  should  spend  the  following  day  with  Brandon  at 
his  mother's. 

"  Yes,"  responded  Hunter  to  the  proposition,  "  and  ride 
over  to  your  uncle  Robert's  in  the  afternoon,  as  a  surprise 
to  him  ;  ay !  boy,  what  say  you  to  that  f  " 

"Excellent  idea,  Tom;  and  let  me  add  —  to  my  fair 
cousin  Laura,  too." 

"  Of  course — that 's  understood,  for  what  in  the  name  of 
Satan  would  you  wish  to  surprise  an  old  gentleman  for  ?  " 

"  All  right ;  I  see  you  are  beginning  to  learn  the  nature 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  29 

of  such  things  better  than  I  once  feared  you  would. 
Suppose,  too,  you  bring  your  friend  —  Lucy's  friend, 
Campbell,  with  you." 

"  Well,  I  shall  propose  to  him  to  go  out,  and  I  presume 
he  will  accept." 

The  friends  now  parted  with  these  understandings. 

Brandon  very  soon  procured  a  conveyance,  and  was  on 
his  way  home. 

After  an  hour's  drive,  he  was  at  the  gate  of  "Buckhorns," 
a  name  given  to  it  by  his  father.  The  meeting  between 
himself  and  mother  and  sister  was  joyous,  tender,  and 
affecting. 

The  intelligence  of  his  return  soon  went  from  the  house 
to  the  "  Quarter,"  and  from  the  Quarter  rapidly  spread 
through  the  plantation;  when  all  the  negroes,  both  old  and 
young,  left  their  employments  and  almost  flew  to  the  house 
to  meet  their  long -absent  young  master.  No  authority 
could  have  restrained  them,  even  had  it  been  attempted ; 
but  so  far  from  it,  drivers,  foremen,  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren all  hurried  in  promiscuous  flight  to  the  house,  and  there 
the  scene  was  at  once  ludicrous,  affectionate,  and  touching. 
The  young  master,  who  had  been  a  great  favorite  with  all 
classes  in  his  boyhood,  but  with  none  so  much  so  as  with  his 
father's  negroes,  discovering  that  they  were  coming  en  masse 
to  see  him,  met  them  in  the  yard,  and  but  a  short  time 
elapsed  before  he  was  surrounded  by  largely  over  a  hundred 
negroes  of  all  ages  and  sexes,  striving  to  get  to  him.  Last 
among  those  who  had  heard  the  intelligence  of  his  return, 
was  one  who  had  acted  as  his  first  body-servant  in  the 
time  of  their  youthful  boyhood,  and  his  chief-of-staff  in 
general,  now  grown  though  to  be  a  tall,  sinewy,  fine-looking 
fellow  —  black  as  jet,  but  with  an  eye,  face,  and  figure 
that  denoted  intelligence,  cunning,  courage,  and  quickness. 
"  Sam  Brandon,"  the  name  that  he  was  universally  called 
by,  as  a  distinction  from  other  Sams  on  the  place,  and  from 
3* 


30  BLOOM    AX  D    BRIER. 

his  former  association  with  his  young  master,  now  came 
pushing  his  way  through  the  crowd,  regardless  of  whom  he 
ran  over,  and  reaching  Henry,  embraced  him,  and  with 
tears  of  joy  in  his  eyes,  screamed  out,  "Oh  !  my  dear  young 
master,  is  I  got  you  agin  in  my  own  arms,  safe  an'  soun'  as 
when  you  lef  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sam,  back  once  more,  and  all  right,"  replied 
Henry,  sympathizing  in  the  gladness  and  emotion  of  his 
boyhood  servant. 

"  I  is  glad  of  it.  Lord  knows  I  is,  and  all  the  devils  an' 
ole  Satan  hisself  can't  git  me  way  from  you  no  mo'.  Mass 
Henry." 

This  meeting  between  the  returned  young  master  and 
the  family  slaves,  in  the  shaking  of  hands,  congratulations, 
and  other  demonstrations  of  pleasure,  were  truthful  and 
sincere  —  as  such  always  were,  in  the  olden  time,  before 
that  mixture  of  New  England  yea/oi/.??/ and  prurient  fanati- 
cism had  intervened  to  throw  its  sombre  shadows  of  dis- 
trust and  dislike  between  the  happiest  laborers  and  the 
kindest  employers  of  the  modern  world.  They  finely 
illustrated,  too,  the  patriarchal  character  of  African  slavery 
as  existing  in  the  South,  at  the  base  of  which  there  was  a 
strong  feeling  of  protection,  defence,  and  safety  on  the  one 
part,  and  a  determination  to  meet  the  whole  obligation  on 
the  other,  and  a  burning,  hissing  refutation  of  the  whole- 
sale slanders  published  and  circulated  by  feeble  writers 
and  hypocritical  religionists  against  the  welfare  of  the 
South  and  its  domestic  peace. 

We  will  take  the  liberty  of  here  remarking  that  while 
a  blind,  jealous,  and  relentless  feeling  may  succeed  in 
mangling  and  destroying  the  laws  and  established  institu- 
tions of  a  country  under  the  alleged  sanctions  of  religion, 
yet  that  same  religion  will  never  hold  it  guiltless.  No 
ideal  standard  of  right  is  permissible  of  being  brought  up 
in  extenuation  of  a  2:>alpably  evil  result.     Religious  efforts, 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  31 

as  all  others,  are  judged  of  by  their  fruits,  to  which  reward 
and  retribution  are  accordingly  measured  out. 

A  few  years  since  the  laboring  population  of  the  South 
was  exclusively  composed  of  a  strong,  but  helpless,  affec- 
tionate, confiding,  and  a  heathen  race  of  people,  trans- 
planted from  one  of  the  remotest  quarters  of  the  earth :  in 
this  the  hand  of  the  Almighty  was  plainly  discernible,  as 
they  had  been  under  the  ban  of  Heaven  in  their  own  land, 
from  the  beginning  of  time ;  and  only  in  this  beautiful, 
genial  land  had  they  been  relieved  from  it,  and  had  here 
received  the  first  and  only  spiritual  light  they  had  ever 
received,  or  —  now  —  likely  to  receive,  let  the  extent  of  it 
have  been  what  it  may.  There  was  affection,  reliance,  and 
a  complete  capacity  for  obedience  on  the  one  side  —  interest, 
good  feeling,  and  authority  on  the  other ;  and  these  consti- 
tuted the  entire  base  of  his  feeble  civilization.  Now,  that 
these  persuasives,  relations,  and  obligations  have  been  re- 
moved, it  is  but  fair  to  infer  that  he  will  again  relapse 
into  his  native  barbarism,  or  soon  become  extinct. 

This  position  requires  no  argument  in  its  support ;  the 
statistics  of  the  West  Indies,  Liberia,  and  his  already  re- 
lapsed condition  among  ourselves,  point  with  a  terrible 
significance  to  the  probable  path  of  the  negro ;  and  with 
a  scofiing  derision  of  the  pseudo-philanthropy  of  men, 
when  directed  against  the  laws  of  nature  and  the  manifest 
appointments  of  Heaven. 

The  negro,  by  the  unauthorized  scratch  of  a  pen,  on  the 
part  of  one  who,  in  the  fleeting  time  of  his  glory  and  con- 
ceit, reckoned  upon  his  right  so  to  use  it,  has  been  turned 
loose  upon  society,  in  all  his  necessary  ignorance  and  na- 
tive licentiousness,  and  legislated  into  being  an  equal, 
when  every  possible  circumstance  has  placed  upon  him  the 
indelible  sign  of  inferiority  and  degradation. 

As  a  pet  of  the  Government,  he  will,  by  the  necessary 
operation  of  all  human  law,  become  a  disturbing  element, 


32  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

an  aggressor.  Neglected,  he  falls.  This  is  the  dilemma  of 
those  who  wish  to  use  him  as  a  political  influence  —  a  tool. 

If  there  was  any  evidence  necessary  to  establish  the 
loathsome  falsehood  of  those  who  professed  to  be  guided  by 
philanthropy  and  religious  duty,  it  would  be  in  the  well- 
known  fact  that  every  possible  bitterness  and  hatred  has 
been  infused  into  his  heart  toward  his  old  master,  and  his 
only  real  friend,  by  the  teachings  of  these  same  men  since 
his  emancipation.  With  his  changed  relations  has  passed 
away  nearly  all  the  good  feeling  of  which  he  was  the  cause 
and  the  object :  his  slavery  to  us,  and  our  care  of  and  obli- 
gations to  him,  developed  some  of  the  finest  traits  in  South- 
ern character. 

The  caducity  of  a  people  —  a  country  —  a  government, 
may  be  very  correctly  measured  by  the  legislation  which 
lessens  the  aggregate  of  the  generous  sentiments.  For,  as 
lightly  as  the  assertion  may  be  estimated,  it  is  neverthe- 
less a  truth,  susceptible  of  demonstration,  that  good  feeling 
enters  largely  into  the  intellectuality  of  a  people,  and  their 
capacity  for  permanent  endurance  in  history.  As  matters 
now  are,  it  will  approach  the  inspiration  of  a  miracle  to 
save  the  republic,  and  bear  it  up  through  this  sea  of  calam- 
itous legislation.  The  lightnings  of  tremulous  rage  al- 
ready glimmer  upon  the  skies,  and  foretell  the  gathering 
storm,  which,  when  full  grown,  may  at  any  moment  leap 
from  the  clouds,  and  sweep  from  the  earth  the  last  vestige 
of  the  o\di  regime  forever. 

Nature,  so  we  will  call  it,  may  so  respect  her  own  good 
work ;  and  so  mysteriously  direct  her  laws,  as  to  check  a 
people  and  a  government  from  following  to  the  bitter  end 
the  path  that  so  clearly  leads  to  national  destruction  ;  and 
prevent  them  from  becoming  an  accursed  blot  upon  the 
records  of  the  earth.     But  we  fear.     Nous  verrons. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  33 

CHAPTER  VL 

"Youth  on  the  prow,  and  pleasure  at  the  helm."  —  Gray. 

11H0MAS  HUNTER  and  Mr.  Campbell,  in  accordance 
with  the  appointment  made  the  day  before,  had  come 
to  pass  the  day  with  Henry  Brandon,  expecting  to  accom- 
pany the  latter  on  a  visit  to  his  uncle  that  evening ;  and 
having  insisted  upon  Violet  accompanying  them,  she  had 
consented.  The  horses  had  already  been  ordered,  and 
were  now  standing  at  the  gate  in  charge  of  "  Essex,"  the 
pompous  negro-servant  who  was  to  accompany  them  ;  and 
all  of  them  were  ready  at  least  half  an  hour  before  Henry 
Brandon,  upon  whose  movements  they  were  now  waiting. 
Hunter  and  Campbell  were  leisurely  sauntering  up  and 
down  the  long  gallery  enjoying  a  fresh  cigar,  as  Violet, 
also  ready,  joined  them;  but  stopping  occasionally  and 
looking  impatiently  toward  her  brother's  room,  she  nerv- 
ously switched  her  skirt  with  her  whip.  The  time  had  quite 
arrived  when  it  was  proper  that  they  should  be  on  their 
horses,  and  again  casting  one  of  her  impatient  glances 
toward  her  brother's  room,  she  turned  to  Hunter,  and  said  : 
"I  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Thomas  Hunter,  and  you,  Mr. 
Campbell^  too,  upon  being  better  representatives  of  your 
sex  than  my  exquisite  brother,  who  I  suppose  is  engaged 
in  selecting  a  neck-scarf  of  suitable  color  to  his  com- 
plexion." 

"  You  are  disposed  to  be  severe  upon  your  brother.  Miss 
Violet  Brandon,"  replied  Hunter,  "and  I  feel  in  duty 
bound  to  defend  him  against  your  causticity,  by  refreshing 
your  memory  with  the  fact  that  my  young  friend  is  to  meet 
with  a  fair  cousin  this  evening,  and  the  necessity  for  his 
attire  being  faultless." 


34  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  There  might  be  something  in  what  you  say,  sir,  were 
she  not  a  cousin." 

"Methinks  I've  heard  of  that  frail  barrier  being  over- 
leaped, young  lady.*' 

"  Come,  Mr.  Hunter,  you  must  not  hint  such  dangerous 
things  to  my  brother,  or  he  would  endeavor  to  put  them  in 
practice  on  the  very  first  occasion.  I  know  his  old  love 
of  adventure,  and  I  have  heard  it  has  been  said  by  some 
very  wise  person  —  though  I  do  not  profess  to  know  — 
that  the  boy  is  father  to  the  man.  Not  only  that,  I  expect 
to  have  a  personal  use  for  his  services  for  the  next  ten 
years  myself" 

"  Ah !  pitiless  maiden,  why  wring  our  hearts  by  such 
cruel  threats  ? "  replied  Hunter,  his  eye  laughing  with  fun. 

''Had  I  known,  sir,  that  my  w^ords  would  carry  pain  to 
the  heart  of  any  one,  I  might,  perhaps,  have  been  less 
plain  in  their  use,  even  while  equally  resolute  in  my  pur- 
pose." 

"  I  thank  you  for  even  that  —  " 

At  this  moment  Henry  Brandon  joined  them,  when 
Hunter  said  to  him  that  he  was  greatly  pleased  with  his 
presence,  as  he  had  just  been  engaged  in  a  most  desperate 
game  of  cut  and  thrust  in  his  behalf. 

"  Yes,  brother,  I  have  been  performing  one  of  Shaks- 
peare's  tableaus,  Patience  on  a  monument." 

"Ah  !  well,  I  hope  you  smiled  at  your  grief." 

"  No,  I  did  not." 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  told  your  love  ?  " 

"  Told  my  love  ?     No,  sir  !  I  have  none  to  tell !  " 

"You  only  acted  the  simple  part  of  looking  silly  on 
your  monument,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  about  the  idea  I  have  of  my  conduct,  if  it 
will  please  you  for  me  to  say  so." 

"Far  from  it,"  replied  Hunter;  "she  has  been  play- 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  35 

"Never  mind,  Mr.  Hunter,  I  will  excuse  any  further 
accusations  of  myself,  or  defences  of  my  delinquent 
brother."     Then  turning  to  the  latter,  she  said : 

"  Well,  brother,  you  must  really  permit  me  to  admire 
the  justice  you  have  done  your  toilette  —  or  that  your 
toilette  has  done  you :  you  are  really  quite  a  handsome 
young  fellow,  and  I  shall  take  great  pleasure  in  exhibiting 
you  to  the  kinsfolk  of  "Starlight"  —  indeed,  gentlemen,  as  I 
shall  the  three  of  you  ;  since  no  Eastern  princess  did  ever 
have  a  more  handsome  escort.     Not  even  Lalla  Rookh." 

"  Nor  did  the  vale  of  Cashmere  afford  one  Violet  Bran- 
don," added  Mr.  Campbell. 

"  Thank  you,  and  bravo !  Mr.  Campbell.  I  shall 
recommend  you  to  Miss  Lucy  Brandon  as  a  most  proper 
Ferramorze." 

"  You  place  me  under  too  great  obligations,  unless  you 
will  signify  to  me  wherein  I  can  perform  some  knightly 
service  in  your  behalf." 

•  "Rest  satisfied,  Mr.  Campbell,  with  what  I  shall  do  for 
you.  I  should  fear  the  personal  consequences  to  myself, 
of  taking  you  in  my  service  in  any  capacity,  while  another 
has  a  better  claim  to  it.  But,  brother,"  said  she,  again 
turning  to  him,  "  Mr.  Hunter  had  but  insinuated,  as  you 
came  out  of  your  room  —  or  from  your  toilette,  I  should 
say  —  that  you  were  preparing  to  captivate  cousin  Laura. 
What  think  you  of  that  idea?     Absurd,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"No,  not  so  terribly  absurd  as  some  things  I  have 
heard  of;  that  is,  if  Laura  is  as  nice  a  girl  as  she  promised 
to  be  the  evening  I  saw  her  last.  Do  you  remember  the 
time,  Violet?  ha!  ha!  ha!  I  robbed  you  of  tlmt  ride,  but 
you  may  go  this  time." 

"  Yes,  and  I  think  it  quite  probable  that  you  had  better 
have  let  me  go  with  you  then." 

"Why  so,  my  mysterious  and  lovely  little  sister?" 

"Oh,  never  mind  for  the  reasons  now — may  tell  you 


36  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

some  other  time.  But  as  to  cousin  Laura  being  as  nice  a 
girl  as  formerly,  I  can  say  to  you  that  she  is,  and  improves 
in  something  every  day  she  lives.  She  is  the  prettiest  girl 
of  us  all,  and  is  even  sweeter  in  her  character  an;i  her 
mind  than  in  her  person.  So,  my  dear  brother,  if  you  are 
to  be  governed  by  her  looks  and  her  qualities,  I  shall  look 
for  a  certain  vain  young  collegian  to  fall  into  trouble  very 
soon." 

"Trouble!  pshaw!  I  want  a  great  deal  of  just  such 
trouble." 

"  Very  well ;  but  let  me  suggest  that  we  ride,  as  I  am 
anxious  to  see  my  handsome  cavalcade  under  way." 

"  I  believe  we  are  all  ready  now,  and  fully  prepared  for 
exhibition,  as  we  are  certainly  as  handsome  by  reciprocal 
compliments  as  the  two  Yankees  were  wealthy  by  swapping 
knives." 

"Allons"  said  Henry  Brandon. 

At  this  proposition  they  left  the  house,  and  went  to 
their  horses,  where  Essex,  with  "Sam  Brandon,"  who. 
had  been  taken  immediately  into  service,  stood  holding 
them.  As  Hunter  came  up  to  him  for  the  purpose  of  get- 
ting that  one  which  Violet  was  to  ride,  he  quickly  and  in 
an  undertone  said:  "Mass  Tom,  I  wishes  you  to  ride 
with  Miss  Violet."  Without  appearing  to  hear  the  words. 
Hunter's  heart  responded  to  the  spirit  of  them,  but  felt 
bound  to  give  the  place  to  Mr.  Campbell,  and,  as  they  rode 
off,  fell  back  with  Henry  Brandon,  Essex  and  "Sam 
Brandon "  bringing  up  the  rear.  The  arrangement  did 
not  altogether  please  Essex,  but  he  had  too  great  polite- 
ness to  give  any  evidence  of  his  displeasure. 

As  we  have  undertaken  to  give  an  outline  of  Southern 
life  in  several  of  its  coteries,  we  must  be  allowed  frequent 
allusions  to  the  negro  servants  belonging  to  them;  and 
just  here  we  will  say  that  not  the  least  injury  which  their 
(so-called)  freedom  has  inflicted  upon  them,  is  the  destruc- 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  37 

tion  of  that  pride  —  aristocratic  feeling  —  which  tliey  en- 
tertained for  the  superiority  of  their  own  master's  family 
over  all  others.  This  identification  of  themselves  with 
the  dignity  and  standing  of  their  owners  was  a  very 
decided  elevation  to  them,  the  elements  of  which  they  did 
not  have  within  themselves,  and  which  their  own  race  can 
never  furnish. 

Offensive  as  the  arisiocYniic  planter  of  the'South  was  to 
the  democratic  farmer  of  the  North,  he  was  yet  not  to  be 
compared  in  aristocratic  feeling  to  his  body-servant  or  his 
carriage-driver ;  nor  to  him,  either,  in  his  dislike  of  "Yan- 
kees "  —  the  latter  term  being  ever  used  as  one  of  contempt, 
and  is  so  to  this  day  —  growing  out  of  the  fact  universally 
asserted  that  they  knew  nothing  about  negroes,  and  made 
the  stingiest,  hardest  masters. 

In  the  present  instance,  Essex  was  proud  of  his  young 
mistress  ;  and  desired  that  Hunter  should  ride  with  her,  as 
he  thought  him  the  handsomest,  wealthiest,  and  most  libe- 
ral young  gentleman  that  visited  her:  of  Campbell  he  knew 
nothing,  and  was  therefore  disposed  to  ignore  his  attentions. 

From  a  feeling  of  identity  of  welfare,  all  the  better  and 
more  intelligent  classes  of  negroes,  throughout  the  whole 
slave  period,  were  the  most  inveterate  match-makers  for  their 
young  mistresses ;  and  discussed  with  the  utmost  freedom 
and  sharpness  the  pretensions  of  any  gentleman  to  their 
hands,  and  as  far  as  possible  imitated  them  in  their  own 
courtships.  But  woe  be  unto  the  young  fellow  who  had  the 
hardihood  to  ride  up,  who  was  not  known  to  possess  his 
full  share  of  darkies  ! 

A  certain  female  writer  of  Northern  notoriety,  by  se- 
lecting some  exceptional  characters,  both  black  and  white, 
and  by  adding  to  the  extravagance  of  her  pictures  all 
the  sentimental  malignity  of  ignorance  and  fanaticism, 
did  more  to  slander  the  domestic  life  of  the  South  than  all 
the  crazy-headed  Garrisons  et  al.  together.  Theirs  were  but 
4 


38  BLOOM    A  XD    BRIER. 

the  mad  ravings  of  the  bull  at  the  baiting,  and  most  men 
laughed  while  uttering  the  unceasing  cry  of  "  pan  y  toras ; " 
but  hers  was  the  shriek  and  wail  of  distress  from  a  woman, 
and  all  men  rushed  to  the  scene  of  pain. 

This  same  woman  has  since  had  the  disgusting  effrontery 
to  make  some  sort  of  home  in  the  orange  groves  of  a  land 
which  she  assisted  to  destroy,  and  as  we  suppose,  aspires 
to  drink  in  fresh  inspiration  for  a  slanderous  page ;  but 
orange  groves  can  furnish  no  inspiration  to  such  a  mind. 
"When  no  slander  can  be  uttered  her  pen  cannot  move:  the 
gigantic  malignancy  of  her  first  falsehood  has  fortunately 
paralyzed  all  future  efforts  of  her  wretched  brain.  She 
should  now  devote  the  remainder  of  her  life  to  penance  for 
the  wrong  she  has  done;  and  even  one  life  is  insufficient 
for  an  adequate  repentance !  With  these  remarks,  we  leave 
her  disgusting  pen  to  English  Reviews. 


CHAPTER  yil. 

"And  both  were  young,  and  one  was  beautiful."  —  Byrox. 

THE  gay  cavalcade  was  now  sweeping  swiftly  and  gal- 
lantly across  the  beautiful  country  which  lay  in  the 
direction  of  Mr.  Robert  Brandon's.  Essex  had  been  thor- 
oughly studying  the  aesthetics  of  the  expedition,  from  the 
moment  he  had  first  received  the  order  in  regard  to  it ; 
and,  thinking  it  proper,  in  consideration  of  the  arrival  of 
his  young  master,  to  invest  it  with  all  the  augustness  possi- 
ble, had  ordered  even  a  third  subaltern  into  his  service,  in 
order  that  each  gentleman  should  have  his  particular 
groom.  This  third  party,  who,  in  some  patronymical  sig- 
nificance, responded  to  the  name  of  "  Jacko,"  was  a  full- 


KI.OOM    AND    BRIER.  39 

blooded  negro  ;  and  rejoiced  in  nothing  more  than  his  love 
of  laughter,  in  which  he  now  frequently  indulged  with  a 
rather  loud  "yah,  ha!"  to  the  great  annoyance  of  Essex, 
who  was  desirous  of  conducting  his  end  of  the  party  with 
the  utmost  gravity  and  decorum.  Henry  Brandon  had  not 
discovered  the  extent  of  Essex's  retinue,  until,  upon  the 
occasion  of  an  extra  loud  "  yah,  ha!  "  from  the  unrestrained 
risibles  of  Jacko,  when,  turning  to  him,  he  said,  "  Why, 
Essex,  you  have  all  the  boys  from  the  quarter  with  you." 

"Oh,  no,  sah!  Jacko,  he  b'longs  to  me  anyhow,  and  I 
jest  brung  'long  '  Sam  Brandon '  on  you'  account." 

"  That 's  all  well ;  but  Uncle  Robert  will  think  we  are 
coming  to  storm  his  house." 

"  I  speck  not,  sah ;  he  'most  always  does  see  me  have 
Jacko,  and  'Sam  Brandon'  is  you'  servant:  oh,  no,  sah  ! 
thar  ain't  too  many  of  us." 

"  Very  well ;  the  more  the  merrier  on  a  frolic." 

Violet  and  Campbell  were  riding  together,  and  carrying 
on  a  lively  conversation,  the  latter  appearing  more  pleas- 
ant and  more  at  his  ease  than  she  had  ever  seen  him  ; 
while  Hunter  and  Henry  Brandon  were  but  a  short  dis- 
tance behind,  feeling  all  the  joyousness  of  youth  again,  as 
they  galloped  over  the  broad  prairies  through  which  they 
had  so  often  rambled  together  in  boyhood. 

It  was  in  the  early  autumn  of  the  year ;  and  as  the 
golden  sunlight  rested  on  the  broad  landscape,  it  seemed  to 
soothe  its  exhausted  summer  life  to  a  soft  repose,  while  the 
gentle  breeze  fanned  the  brow  even  more  lightly  than  a 
young  maiden's  hand,  and  gave  the  scene  a  mystic  sadness, 
which  was  yet  a  joy  to  the  heart,  and  swelled  it  with 
sweetest  emotions. 

The  merry  little  party  had  now  reached  the  outer  de- 
mesnes of  "Starlight;"  and  as  Essex  opened  the  large 
double  gate,  the  two  daughters  of  Mr.  Brandon  —  Laura 
and  Lucy — were  seen  off  at  some  distance  to  the  right,  a3 


40  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

if  taking  an  evening  walk  among  the  great  oaks  of  the 
enclosure,  which  even  partly  concealed  from  view  the  stately- 
mansion  that  stood  in  their  midst. 

The  first  impulse  of  the  young  ladies  upon  seeing  the 
party,  and  not  recognizing  the  persons,  was  to  return  to 
the  house  ;  but  as  they  appeared  to  have  inclined  a  little  in 
the  direction  of  themselves,  they  at  once  turned  and  came 
meeting  them,  still  unable,  however,  to  comprehend  the 
nature  of  so  uncommon  a  cortege,  though  recognizing 
Violet  as  one  of  them. 

Henry  Brandon  now  rode  in  advance,  when  Laura,  in 
spite  of  the  change  in  appearance  that  had  taken  place,  at 
once  recognized  him ;  and  clapping  her  hands  in  expression 
of  her  joyous  astonishment,  exclaimed,  even  before  speak- 
ing to  others,  or  appearing  to  observe  their  aj^proach :  "  Oh, 
cousin,  cousin !  is  this  Henry  Brandon  ? " 

Henry,  feeling  the  same  pleasure,  addressed  her  in  return 
—  in  imitation,  too,  of  her  own  gladness : 

"  Cousin,  cousin !  is  this  Laura  Brandon  ?  " 

Lucy,  in  this  while,  had  received  her  friends — Laura,  as 
we  have  said,  not  appearing  to  be  conscious  of  their  pres- 
ence. 

Henry  Brandon  had  dismounted  from  his  horse  before 
these  words  were  clearly  out  of  his  mouth,  and,  holding 
his  cap  in  one  hand,  had  seized  hers  with  the  other,  and  with 
a  half-comic,  half-serious  expression,  knelt  before  her,  and 
pledged  his  knighthood  and  eternal  fealty.  While  in  this 
pretendedly  imploring  position,  he  discovered  the  little 
gold  ring  still  upon  her  finger,  which  he  had  placed  there, 
four  years  before,  in  the  flower-yard,  on  the  eve  of  his 
leaving  for  college ;  then  immediately,  kissing  her  hand 
and  rising,  said : 

"  Fair  lady,  as  I  have  pledged  my  knighthood  to  thy 
noble  service,  wilt  thou  now,  as  cousin,  permit  me  to  place 
the  seal  of  my  affection  upon  thy  ruby  lips  ? " 


BLOOM    AND    B  II I  E  R  .  41 

Laura,  in  this  while,  had  recovered  from  the  surprise 
of  this  eccentric  galutation,  and  laughingly  addressing 
her  young  friends,  asked  them  to  pardon  her  not  speak- 
ing to  them  before;  then  smilingly  turning  again  to  her 
cousin,  who  still  held  her  hand,  replied : 

"  Ah  !  no,  sir  knight !  I  will  reserve  that  favor  as  future 
guerdon  of  thy  truth,  and  some  noble  deed  of  valor." 

But  no  notion  had  he  to  thus  be  foiled  by  the  mock 
gravity  of  her  refusal,  but  instantly  placing  his  arm 
around  her  chiselled  neck,  gave  her  smiling  lips  a  gentle 
kiss.  Oh!  that  fatal  kiss!  'twas  then  there  went  from 
earth  to  heaven  a  soft,  low  tone  of  music ;  and  still  it  lin- 
gers on  the  harp-strings  there,  in  echo  to  the  pledge  of  a 
heart's  first  love. 

After  going  through  these  mock  heroics,  Henry  Bran- 
don turned  to  Lucy,  whom  he  had  not  yet  spoken  to,  and 
addressed  her  in  the  fullest  terms  of  natural  affection  and 
pleasure.  In  the  mean  time  Campbell  had  found  his  way 
to  her  side,  and  was  enjoying  the  odd  mixture  of  extrav- 
agance and  antique  gallantry  which  young  Brandon  had 
60  unexpectedly  seen  proper  to  indulge  in. 

In  reply  to  his  hearty  and  good-natured  salutation, 
Lucy  said  to  him,  as  she  received  his  hand  : 

"  Cousin,  I  am  of  course  delighted  to  see  you,  after  so 
long  an  absence ;  but  this  wicked  humanity  of  mine  de- 
mands an  apology  for  so  decided  an  expression  of  prefer- 
ence as  you  have  just  exhibited  for  Laura." 

"  Ah  !  my  lovely  cousin,  this  is  not  a  moment  for  rhet- 
oric, speeches,  expletives,  or  explanations,  but  one  for 
affectionate  inquiry  after  health  and  welfare,  loves  and 
hopes,  and  for  asking  you,  too,  to  never  again  use  so  cold 
and  earthly  a  word  as  humanity  when  speaking  of  so  per- 
fect an  ideality  of  all  beauty  as  yourself — say  celestiality. 
Yes,  as  you  are  really  more  beautiful,  cousin,  than  I  even 
remembered  you  to  be  —  " 
4* 


42  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

"Come,  cousin,"  she  said,  interrupting  him,  and  at  the 
same  time  laughing;  "stop,  I  pray  you,  or  I  shall  think 
flattery  the  chief  fruition  of  your  college  life.  Was  the 
mastery  of  that  art  embraced  in  your  curriculum  ?  " 

"  Indeed  it  was  not,  but  truth  was  highly  enjoined  ;  and 
that  being  my  inheritance  and  vernacular  too,  I  have  only 
had  to  cultivate  a  native  virtue ;  yet,  even  now  my  tongue 
can  only  lisp,  in  feeble  numbers,  nature's  rich  profusions 
in  yourself  Never  mind  all  of  this,  however,"  he  added, 
as  he  saw  her  about  to  interrupt  him  ;  "  but  let  me  ask 
why  thy  anger  at  the  supposed  preference  for  thy  sister  ? 
Is  she  unworthy?" 

"  Indeed,  no,  not  by  any  means  ;  she  is  worthy  any  man- 
ner of  homage  ;  but  yours  was  so  unexpectedly  peculiar, 
as  to  make  it  quite  remarkable  :  you  seemed  to  think  these 
old  oaks  surrouudinof  <ome  old  enchanted  castle,  and  Laura, 
a  noble  damsel  held  in  vile  captivity." 

"  Ah!  coz,  thou  mayest  charge  thy  jaundice  to  the  green- 
eyed  monster.  Didst  thou  suppose  that  I,  Henry  Bran- 
don, gent.,  after  years  of  absence,  could  renew  the  fealty 
of  my  youthful  heart  after  the  humdrum  style  of  your 
man  of  clay  ?  Moreover,  coz,  wilt  thee  permit  me  to  say 
that  thou  seemest  amenable  unto  that  particular  law  of 
thy  gender  whereof  the  poets  have  so  often  sung,  and  con- 
cerning which  Shakspeare  was  moved  unto  saying : 

"  'Trifles  light  as  air 
Are,  to  the  jealous,  confirmation  strong 
As  proofs  of  Holy  Writ.'  " 

At  this  unlooked-for  imputation,  Lucy's  eyes  flashed 
with  a  merry  fire ;  but  the  flighty  accuser  gave  no  time 
for  a  reply,  by  moving  quickly  again  to  Laura,  who  was 
conversing  gayly  with  Campbell,  and  said : 

"  Pardon  me,  fair  lady ;  but,  on  meeting  thee  in  this 
ancient  grove,  some  mystic  shadow  did  flit  athwart  my 


B  L  ()  ()  M     A  N  I)     B  R  I  E  R  .  43 

vitiiou  ;  and  thy  sister's  ready  wit  or  instinct  supplied  the 
phantom  with  a  name  —  perhaps  a  prophecy  —  "  captiv- 
ity." Now  let  the  future  tell  who  the  captive  or  the  cap- 
tor is,"  and,  with  affected  reverence,  cap  in  hand,  bowed 
gallantly ;  then  laughingly  turned  to  the  amusing  scene 
transpiring  at  his  side,  in  which  Hunter,  somewhat  at  a 
loss  as  to  what  he  should  say  or  do  during  the  extrav- 
agances of  Brandon,  had  pretended  to  have  somehow 
caught  the  gallant  infection,  and,  kneeling  at  Violet's  feet, 
was  repeating  the  words  of  Virgil,  "  Omnia,  vincet  amor, 
et  nos,  cedamus,  araori,"  while  she,  with  an  affected  as- 
sumption of  dignity  and  doubt,  replied  :  "  Men  have  died, 
and  worms  have  eaten  them,  but  not  for  love." 

Hunter  then  rose,  and,  swearing  by  St.  George  and  the 
Dragon  that  he  was  ready  to  perform  her  least  or  greatest 
pleasure,  announced  himself  prepared  to  put  his  protesta- 
tions to  the  proof,  and  was  willing  to  undertake  all  the 
labors  of  Hercules  —  bring  her  the  golden  fleece,  or  to 
fling  a  girdle  round  the  earth  in  forty  minutes  —  if  these 
heroic  feats  could  extort  one  smile  from  her  coral  lips,  or 
one  beam  of  love  from  her  lustrous  eyes. 

"Glorious!  Hunter;  most  glorious!  You  have  neither 
forgotten  your  early  college  lore,  nor  your  youthful  warmth 
of  heart,  and  must  certainly  have  been  recently  engaged 
in  reviewing  your  classics,  and  begun  with  Ovid's  *  Art  of 
Love.'  But  see  thee,  mine  ancient  friend  —  I  most  sol- 
emnly protest  against  thy  victimizing  mine  unsophisticated 
country  sister ;  for  even  now,  while  assuming  such  indif- 
ference, she  is  half  disposed  to  yield  to  thy  siren  words." 

All  parties  then  joined  in  the  merry  laugh,  when  Hunter, 
speaking  to  Campbell,  said: 

"  Now,  Mr.  Campbell,  comes  your  turn.  We  two  have 
declared  our  knightly  devotion  to  our  ladies,  and  called 
the  weird  spirits  of  this  ancient  wood  to  witness  our  truth 
and  noble  purpose ;  and  yet  there  is  another  damsel,  all 


44  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

forlorn,  whose  charms  are  still  without  a  suitable  de- 
fender." 

Campbell,  pleased  with  this  timely  impudence  of  Hunter, 
gladly  accepted  the  banter,  and  bowed  low  and  gracefully 
to  Lucy,  when  she,  in  return,  pronounced  him  knighted, 
and  accepted  his  championship,  as  she  touched  his  shoul- 
der with  the  little  wild-flower  she  held  in  her  hand ;  then 
screaming  with  uncontrolled  laughter,  said : 

"  Well,  if  father  has  witnessed  any  portion  of  this  veiy 
unique  and  eccentric  meeting,  he  will  certainly  take  out  a 
commission  of  lunacy  against  us,  and  we  richly  deserve  it." 

They  now  walked  in  the  direction  of  the  house,  paired 
off,  as  may  be  easily  conjectured.  The  horses  being  in 
charge  of  the  servants ;  Essex,  with  his  corps  of  assistants, 
had  witnessed  the  whole  scene,  with  their  senses  ravished 
with  delight ;  but  he,  too  proud  to  confess  his  want  of  com- 
prehension, waited,  with  a  most  knowing  look  of  silence, 
until  some  one  else  should  speak. 

"  Essex,"  at  length  spoke  Sam  Brandon,  "  ole  feller,  did 
you  see  into  all  dat  talk?" 

"  To-be-sho  I  did,  nigga ;  it  means  when  dey  is  all  gwine 
to  marry." 

"  Ah,  ha !  dat 's  so,  I  speck.  Well,  it  looked  mity  fine ; 
an'  Mass  Henry,  he 's  gwine  to  git  Miss  Laura.  He  always 
did  had  her  for  a  sweetheart  when  he  war  a  boy ;  an'  he 
beat  em  all  to-day,  for  he  got  de  kiss,  if  dat 's  any  sign. 
Mass  Tom  Hunter,  he  seem  to  git  along  purty  well,  too, 
wid  Miss  Violet.  Mr.  Camell,  he  seem  to  fight  behine. 
Who  is  he,  anyhow,  Essex  ?     Whar  is  his  niggas?" 

"  Well,  I  jes  don't  know.  Dey  say  he  is  a  big  lawyer, 
and  makes  a  heap  o'  money.  If  he  do,  he  's  dog-gone 
stingy  wid  it,  for  1  never  sees  him  spen'  any.  He  ain't  got 
no  niggas  'bout  here,  dat 's  certain,  I  knows.  But  yes,  sah, 
Mass  Tom,  he  is  certain  to  be  some  of  we  darkies'  master, 
and  dat  very  soon :  he  been  comin'  to  our  house  a  long 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  45 

time;  and  didn't  you  see  how  Miss  Violet  looked  at  him 
dis  eveniu'  ?  An'  it 's  jist  what  I  wants.  Miss  Violet  will 
den  be  de  riches'  lady  in  all  dls  neck.  Mass  Tom  hisself 
is  got  close  on  to  a  hunderd  niggas,  and  dey  is  mos'ly 
young;  an'  everything  else  accordin'.  An'  if  old  mistiss 
will  gin  me  up,  I  wishes  to  be  dey  carriage-driver." 

"  Ah,  ha !  Well,  dat  's  all  good  enuff ;  but  I  myself 
specks  to  foller  Mass  Henry,  from  dis  out,  to  the  eend  of 
the  wurld,  ef  he  wishes  to  go  dar.  I 's  dun  wid  de  cotton- 
patch  arter  dis.  But,  Essex,  I  likes  de  way  de  young 
gentlemen  done  dis  evenin' ;  an'  ef  they  kin  make  de 
young  ladies  marry  'em,  les  us  try  to  do  de  same  wid  de 
house-gals ;  for  nigger  gals  ain't  as  good  as  white  ladies, 
and  ain't  as  hard  to  be  kotch,  no  how." 

"  Dat 's  so,  Sam  Brandon.  Agreed  den  :  we  '11  try  em 
dis  night." 

With  conversation  of  this  sort,  the  negroes  entertained 
themselves  while  in  charge  of  the  horses  —  thus  demon- 
strating their  natural  love  and  reverence  for  white  people, 
and  particularly  their  masters,  during  their  slavery,  and 
their  strong  proclivities  to  imitation,  which,  together,  were 
the  source  of  their  original  civilization,  and  of  which  they 
are  now  prevented  from  availing  themselves,  by  being 
forced  into  an  antagonistic  position. 

Mr.  Brandon  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  last  scenes 
of  the  meeting  in  the  grove,  and  not  exactly  recognizing 
the  parties,  was  almost  disposed  to  think  his  daughters 
beside  themselves ;  and,  taking  up  his  hat  and  cane,  came 
meeting  them  as  they  were  on  their  way  to  the  house.  On 
his  nearer  approach,  he  was  much  surprised,  as  well  as 
pleased,  at  finding  one  of  the  parties  to  the  uncommon 
proceedings  his  own  handsome  young  nephew  :  after  greet- 
ing him  most  kindly  and  cordially,  he  very  naturally  in- 
quired as  to  the  nature  of  the  apparent  confusion  which 
he  had  seen  from  the  house ;  but  when  explained  to  him, 


46  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

appeared  to  enjoy  the  sport  of  it  equally  with  the  young 
people  themselves. 

On  reaching  the  house,  they  were  met  by  Mrs.  Bran- 
don, a  matronly  looking,  but  very  elegant  lady,  who,  after 
a  most  gracious  welcome  to  the  nephew  of  her  husband 
and  his  friends,  conducted  them  into  one  of  her  large  and 
elegant  parlors.  The  conversation  soon  became  general  and 
animated,  as  there  was  no  gentleman  more  happily  capa- 
h\e  of  putting  a  company  at  its  ease  than  Mr.  Brandon, 
or  who  more  highly  appreciated  the  mirth,  joyousness,  and 
humor  of  young  persons,  or  entered  with  greater  zest  into 
the  spirit  of  their  intercourse.  Mrs,  Brandon  possessed 
an  almost  equal  felicity  in  her  own  deportment,  with  only 
a  slight  touch  too  much  of  stateliness  —  a  very  great  draw- 
back to  true  politeness. 

"Why  did  you  not  come  over  this  morning,  and  spend 
the  day  with  me,  my  young  friends-^ and  you  particu- 
larly, Henry  ? "  asked  Mr.  Robert  Brandon. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  was  scarcely  more  than  through  with  grat- 
ifying the  curiosity  of  mother  and  Violet,  before  Hunter 
and  Mr.  Campbell  came:  we  then  concluded  that  we 
would  ride  over  and  make  you  a  short  visit,  with  the 
understanding  that  it  would  not  relieve  me  of  the  respon- 
sibility of  spending  a  day  with  you  on  private  account, 
very  soon." 

"  Yes,  uncle,  that  is  a  correct  account,  so  far  as  stated," 
said  Violet ;  "  but  the  visit,  though  not  intended  to  be  a 
regular,  or  a  long  one,  would  yet  have  been  much  longer, 
had  brother  not  consumed  more  than  a  proper  share  of 
the  time  in  the  extra  preparation  of  his  toilette.  I  must  tell 
on  him,  as  he  shall  not  appear  here  so  much  more  hand- 
somely dressed  than  any  of  us,  without  letting  you  know 
that  he  took  a  part  of  your  visit  to  prepare  himself,  and 
an  unfair  advantage  of  us." 

"  Ah,  Violet,  none  of  your  tale-telling."    ^ 


BT.OOM    AND    BIIIER.  47 

"  No,  I  was  only  giving  uncle  the  cause  of  the  neces- 
sarily short  visit  which  we  pay  him." 

"  That 's  all  right.  Now  go  to  the  piano  with  the  others, 
while  uncle  and  I  have  a  few  words  on  personal  account." 

Violet  now  left  them,  and  the  uncle  and  nephew  spent 
most  of  the  hour  that  they  remained  in  private  conversa- 
tion. Some  one  or  other  of  the  girls  alternately  played, 
while  all  of  them  joined  in  the  singing.  Very  soon 
Laura  played  a  waltz,  by  arrangement,  when  Hunter 
and  Violet,  Campbell  and  Lucy,  went  through  the  mazes 
of  that  elegant  but  voluptuous  dance. 

It  was  now  drawing  nigh  time  for  them  to  leave,  and 
Violet  made  the  proposition.  Mr.  Brandon  then  pleas- 
antly insisted  upon  their  staying  until  he  could  have  a 
bottle  of  wine,  saying  that  "  a  spur  in  the  head  is  worth 
two  in  the  heel,"  and  that  they  therefore  could  more  than 
make  up  the  lost  time.     "  What  say  you,  Violet  ?  " 

"Oil,  certainly,  uncle,  as  these  young  gentlemen  would 
never  forgive  me  if  I  refused  that  proposition." 

"  Nor  forgive  yourself,  Miss  Violet,"  said  Hunter. 

A  very  choice  old  bottle  was  soon  brought  in,  when  Mr. 
Brandon  remarked  :  "  My  young  friends,  you  may  esteem 
yourselves  especially  favored  by  the  opening  of  this  bottle : 
it  is  of  a  very  old  vintage,  and  I  have  only  a  few  left  — 
and  only  introduce  it  upon  what  I  esteem  great  occasions. 
I  have  not  brought  one  out  since  the  visit  to  me  of  Wash- 
ington Irving." 

"Ah!"  said  Campbell,  "I  did  not  know  that  he  had 
ever  been  this  far  South." 

"  Yes,  several  years  since  he  made  a  flying  sort  of  trip 
through  this  country,  and  he  made  Henry's  father  and 
myself  an  afternoon  visit,  in  company  with  a  party  of 

gentlemen  from ,  just  to  look  at   the  scenery,  which 

was  then  far  more  beautiful  to  the  eye  than  now." 

"  It  must  indeed,  then,  have  been  very  beautiful." 


48  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"It  most  truly  was  as  lovely  as  human  eye  ever  beheld." 

The  wine  was  now  opened,  and  Mr.  Brandon  proposed 
the  health  of  his  returned  nephew. 

The  party  soon  left  the  house  and  mounted  their  horses, 
Henry  Brandon  promising  to  return  in  a  few  days  and 
make  a  full  visit. 

After  they  were  all  on  their  horses,  Mr.  Brandon  put  in 
a  claim  for  the  company  of  young  Campbell,  saying  that, 
as  they  had  paid  him  so  short  a  visit,  they  should  at  least 
be  willing  to  make  a  fair  division.  The  proposition  was 
so  natural,  and  so  perfectly  accorded  with  the  young  gen- 
tleman's own  feelings,  that  he  could  not  conceal  his  incli- 
nations to  accept  —  when  Violet  spoke,  saying: 

"  Mr.  Campbell,  I  sympathize  with  you,  sir,  and  give  you 
my  permission  to  remain,  although  we  had  promised  our- 
selves the  pleasure  of  your  company  at  our  house  this 
evening." 

Campbell  thanked  her,  and  accepted. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

"  Odds  life  !  must  one  swear  to  the  truth  of  a  song  ?  " 

AS  it  will  not  be  a  difficult  thing  to  suppose  that  Henry 
Brandon  allowed  but  a  very  few  days  to  intervene 
between  his  first  and  second  visit  to  Starlight,  we  will 
pretermit  all  circumlocution,  and  state,  in  few  words,  that 
on  the  third  day  from  that  of  the  first,  he  did  truly  make 
this  second  visit ;  and,  further,  that  it  will  not  be  a  violent 
presumption  to  suppose  that  this  promptness  was,  to  a  very 
great  extent,  attributable  to  the  attractiveness  of  the  beau- 


EI.OOM    AXD    RHIER.  49 

tiful  Jauglitcrs,  rather  than  the  — certainly-many  excel- 
lences of  the  uncle.  "    • 

He  had  been  a  little  expected  even  tlie  day  hefore;  hut 
the  very  slight  disappointment— ifsuch  it  was  — had'only 
appeared  to  increase  tlie  cordial  interest  ivith  ^v!lich   he 
was  no^y  met  by  his  uncle.     Hi.s  aunt  too  receiyed  him 
with  a  very  atTectionate  graciousncss-all  of  which  was 
very  especially  agreeable  to  the  young  gentleman,  as  there 
was  a  certain  little  secret  hope  in  his  breast  which  this 
reception  seemed  to  flatter.     But  to  Laura  his  visit  was  a 
perfect  delight;  and  the  feeling  conveyed  itself  to  his  heart 
without  the  help  of  words;  while  to  Lucy  it  was  all  that 
he  desired  it.     There  may  be  some  breach  of  confidence 
on  our  part  -  who  may  be  supposed  to  know  these  thin..s  — 
in  exposing  them;  yet  we  hope  to  be  forgiven,  promTsin-. 
to  tell  no  more  secrets  out  of  season.  ° 

Ho^vever,  that  our  readers  may  have  a  better  compre- 
hension of  matters  as  they  shadow  themselves  out -but 
not  intending  to  betray  any  feets  reposed  to  our  keepino— 
we  must  let  it  be  known  that,  during  Henry  Brandon's 
absence  at  college,  he  had  regularly  corresponded  with 
Laura;  but  from  fear  of  detection,  probably,  he  had 
not  been  more  than  ordinarily  tender,  except  upon  a 
few  occasions,  which  Laura  had  always  guarded  him 
against,  telling  him  that  her  letters  from  him  were  always 
of  BO  much  interest  to  the  family  generally,  they  had  to 
pa.^  round  to  every  member  of  it -never  omitting  to  say 
at  the  same  time,  that  his  pretty  speeches  were  very  plea's^ 
ing  to  her.     In  this  way.  each  of  them  had  kept  up  the 

It  thT  •"     ;:• 'r  "'■"'  "-^  '"^^-^  ^^''^  --  ^l' by 'hem 
at  the  time  of  his  leaving  for  colletre 

_    This  fact,  together  with  the  eccentric,  but  arnusin..  greet- 

formality  which  might  otherwise  have  marked  their  inter- 
course after  so  long  an  absence.     No  feeling  of  estrange- 


50  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

ment  impressed  itself  on  their  passage  from  youth  to  matu- 
rity, and  they  were  as  easy  as  when  children  together. 
But  while  their  conversation  was  replete  with  wit,  repar- 
tee, and  innocent  pleasantry,  there  was  a  certain  concealed 
gallantry  in  his  attentions  to  her,  which  was  unobservable 
to  others,  but  perfectly  understood  by  the  sweet  and  loving- 
hearted  girl.  And  what  young  girl,  indeed,  did  ever  fail 
to  detect  an  intended  gallantry,  however  well  disguised 
from  the  common  gaze? 

For  the  first  two  hours  after  his  arrival  in  the  morning, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brandon  remained  with  him,  and,  quite  as 
much  as  their  daughters,  appeared  to  enjoy  his  sparkling 
conversation.  Mr.  Brandon  then  left  the  room,  and  was 
very  soon  followed  by  Mrs.  Brandon,  leaving  the  young 
people  to  themselves. 

"  Ah !  now,  girls,  we  are  all  alone,  and  I  want  you  to 
tell  me  everything  you  have  done,  said,  or  thought  for  the 
last  four  years  —  in  particular,  all  that  you  have  done, 
said,  or  thought  concerning  myself." 

"  Your  demands  are  heavy,  cousin,"  said  Laura. 

"  Yes,  and  very  conceited,  too,"  said  Lucy.  "  You  cer- 
tainly think  we  have  been  pining  over  your  absence." 

"  Well,  certainly ;  and  I  expect  you  have  pined  over 
many  worse  matters." 

"  That  we  may  have  ;  but  then  we  have  had  the  pleasing 
novelty  of  fresh  sorrows  occasionally." 

"  Then  my  conceit  is  in  advance  on  that  point :  so  let 
me  inquire  what  else  has  engaged  your  thought  —  love, 
music,  French,  or  cooking?  in  other  words,  has  aunt  pre- 
pared you  for  the  kitchen  or  the  parlor?  What  are  you  — 
fine  ladies,  or  useful  ones  ? " 

"I,"  said  Lucy,  laughing,  "have  been  educated  for  the 
parlor,  while  Laura's  taste  has  led  her  into  the  culinary 
department.  You  know  there  had  to  be  one  fine  lady  of 
us.     But  why  the  question,  cousin  ? " 


BLOOM    AND     DRIER.  51 

"  Well,  first,  because,  since  eating  in  College  Commons 
for  four  years,  I  am  thoroughly  of  the  opinion  that  pro- 
ficiency in  the  noble  art  of  cooking  is  of  far  more  im- 
portance, and  a  far  higher  accomplishment,  than  music, 
French,  or  painting  —  unless  the  French  be  used  to  learn 
the  number  of  dishes  that  can  be  made  of  four  eggs,  and 
how  elegant  a  dinner  can  be  got  up  with  six." 

"I  comprehend  you  now,  and  think  yourself  and  Laura 
will  grow  to  be  admirable  friends  —  your  'Admiration;' 
as  I  think  she  has  not  read  a  word  of  French  for  a  year 
past  but  with  reference  to  some  *  new  dish.' " 

"  I  am  delighted  with  cousin  Laura,  in  advance." 

"  Lucy  has  left  out  one  practical  accomj^lishment  of 
hers,  and  as  they  are  so  few,  I  must  give  her  all  the  advan- 
tage of  it  —  she  is  the  stocking-darner  for  the  whole  fam- 
ily, cousin  Henry,  and  some  weeks  has  a  small  mountain 
of  work  around  her,"  replied  Laura. 

"  That  is  very  well,  so  far  as  it  goes,  Lucy ;  but  still  I 
have  to  regret  your  inaptitude  to  kitchen  duties ;  for  if  I 
read  the  stars  aright,  as  they  conformed  last  night,  thou  'It 
have  some  early  occasion  so  to  employ  thyself,  even  ere 
thy  sister  will." 

"  Indeed  !  then  tell  me,  thou  ancient  Magus,  what  signs 
you  have  been  reading,  or  what  the  signs  you  profess  to  be 
governed  by." 

"  The  stars,  Lucy  ;  the  stars  !  for  by  what  less  than  them 
would  I,  or  any  one,  dare  to  read  the  fortunes  of  so  fair  a 
girl?" 

"  I  cannot  say ;  but  see  that,  in  addition  to  being  one  of 
the  most  accomplished  flatterers,  you  also  profess  to  be  an 
astrologer,  and  when  failing  to  reach  your  object  by  the 
cunning  insinuations  of  the  one,  like  the  first  great  tempter 
of  our  sex,  you  change  your  form,  and  make  approaches 
through  the  weird  problems  of  the  other." 
^^"Even  so,  fair  Jady ;  and  your  own  insight  and  solu- 


52  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

tions  seem  themselves  to  pass  the  bounds  of  human  reason, 
and  by  them  almost  break  the  charm  of  my  skill.  Yes, 
you  are  right — I  do  profess  to  a  knowledge  of  that  sacred 
lore,  the  arcana  of  which  are  only  intrusted  to  a  chosen 
few ;  and  most  truly,  wherein  my  human  faculties  fail  to 
inform  me  of  future  events,  the  spirits  teach  me  —  the 
stars  of  heaven." 

"  Wonderful,  indeed,  but  rather  difficult  of  belief" 

"Ah!  had  you  seen  that  which  last  night  I  did  see,  as 
the  planets  met  upon  the  dividing  line,  you  would  surely 
select  more  cautious  terms  of  expression." 

Laura,  who  had  not  joined  in  the  conversation,  but  sat 
listening  to  the  ludicrous  jumble,  at  length  said  : 

"  Most  learned  cousin,  you  must  either  tell  us  of  what 
you  saw  in  this  starry  realm  of  yours,  or  permit  us  to  doubt 
the  truth  of  your  mystical  inspiration." 

"  Ah,  sweet  lady,  it  is  one  of  the  sternest  laws  of  our 
solemn  brotherhood,  that  we  shall  bear  with  our  truth 
being  impugned,  before  we  may  expose  the  workings  of 
our  holy  league.  Silence  is  the  spell  under  which  w^e  live. 
I  may  not,  cannot  tell  thee  that  which  thou  wouldst  know." 

Laura,  evidently  desirous  of  some  sort  of  answer,  ban- 
teringly  said  to  him  : 

"  Then,  Sir  Astrologer,  we  will  pronounce  your  secret 
league  and  mystic  lore  both  apocryphal ;  but,  somewhat  to 
redeem  your  order  from  so  vile  a  charge,  suppose  thou 
tellest  us  of  those  whose  fortunes  were  last  night  appointed 
in  this  assemblage  of  royal  arch-spirits." 

"  I  may  not  even  tell  thee  that,  fair  lady ;  yet  again  I 
may :  that,  in  our  last  festal  hour,  each  star  did  fling  a 
gentle  beam  to  that  which  with  it  had  revolved  in  the 
magic  ring.     More  methinks  it  forbidden  to  reveal." 

"Cousin,  thy  doubts  and  chopped  expressions  rather 
dub  thee  necromancer  than  wise  astrologer,  and  such  we 
will  surely  call  thee,  too,  unless  thou  revealest  more  of  thy 


r 


BLOOM    AND    BKIER.  53 

charmed  assem])lagos  and  their  strange  incantations.  Canst 
thou  not  even  tell  the  number  that  made  up  this  mao-ic 
circle?" 

'*  Lady,  in  refutation  of  so  base  a  charge,  I  will  say  that 
we  work  with  no  odd  numbers ;  and  will  even  further  tell 
thee,  even  with  the  certainty  of  bringing  down  upon  me 
the  wrath  of  those  who  have  been  my  friends,  that  we  hold 
our  meetings  when  eclipses  are,  and  send  down  to  mortal 
hearts  the  aspects  and  conjunctions  by  the  shooting  stars; 
and  these  are  all  made  manifest  at  the  proper  hour.  But  let 
it  now  be  told,  by  mortal  tongue,  that  thy  own  lovely  form 
did,  last  night,  highest  float  in  the  shadowy  throng, \vhere 
all  were  paired,  and  all  did  hail  thee  queen  of  happy  for- 
tune." 

"Indeed?" 
''Indeed." 

"  Now,  since  thou  hast  forfeited  all  thy  favor,  pray  tell 
me,  thou  fallen  spirit,  what  bright  star  did  welcome  mine." 
"  Ah  !  mine  earthly  tempter,  let  me  break,  forever,  the 
sacred  charm  that  would  have  borne  the  enchanted  two, 
together,  through  the  span  of  time,  and  tell  thee  that  mine 
did  float  with  thine.  But  now  we  are  as  others  are.  Our 
fortunes  fell,  and  fate  itself  did  fail,  when  I  told  thee  of 
these  sacred  cabalisms !  " 

Lucy,  catching  the  glimmering  meaning  of  what  Henry 
Brandon  had  been  so  artfully  aiming  at,  clapped  her 
hands,  and,  breaking  out  in  a  hearty  laugh,  said:  "Oh, 
cousin  !  read  the  enchantment  backward  :  that  will  restore 
the  charm.    There  is  an  old  couplet  which  runs  as  follows: 

♦♦'The  incantation  backward  she  repeats, 

Inverts  her  rod,  and  what  she  did,  defeats.'  " 

But,  before  young  Brandon  could  reply,  his  uncle  and 
aunt  entered  the  room,  and  found  the  young  people  in 
ecstasies  of  laughter. 
6* 


54  BLOOM     AND     BEIER. 

"  Ah,"  said  Mr.  Brandon,  "  you  young  people  appear  to 
be  very  joyous.  Suppose  you  give  us  old  ones  the  benefit 
of  your  mirth  ?  " 

"  Oh,  father,"  said  Lucy,  "  cousin  Henry  has  returned 
among  us  a  wiser  person  than  any  of  his  old-fogy  ances- 
tors ;  and,  if  he  progresses  through  all  his  life  as  he  appears 
thus  far  to  have  done,  will  deserve  canonization." 

"  Come,  my  daughter,  I  think  you  endeavoring  to  exhibit 
your  wit.  You  know  I  always  protest  against  what  young 
women  are  pleased  to  call  sarcasm:  they  are  dangerous 
qualities  at  the  best,  and  young  women  only  succeed  in 
making  a  failure  -in  its  use,  and  themselves  more  or  less 
ridiculous,  and  always  avoided." 

"  Oh,  father,  you  are  too  severe ;  I  did  not  —  " 

"  No,  Uncle  Robert,  cousin  Lucy  was  only  jesting,"  said 
Henry. 

"Yes,  I  only  meant  a  jest,  in  regard  to  our  college  cousin 
discovering  to  us  his  proficiency  in  the  long  obsolete  sci- 
ence of  astrology,  and  that  he  had  even  calculated  our 
nativity  since  his  return." 

"  You  are  wrong,  my  daughter,  in  the  choice  of  your 
words  —  a  nativity  is  only  cast  at  the  hour  of  birth." 

"Well,  I  dare  say;  but  as  he  had  such  a  jargon  of 
phrases,  I  thought  it  about  as  well  to  use  one  word  as 
another." 

"  I  am  glad  of  your  explanation,  Lucy ;  but  your  man- 
ner appeared  a  little  brusque,  as  well  as  your  words  a  little 
rough.  But,  Henry,  we  are  not  yet  all  so  old  as  to  be 
insensible  to  the  warmth  of  Promethean  fire :  suppose  you 
repeat  to  us  the  results  of  your  communion  with  the  stars." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir  ;  the  nonsense  will  not  bear  repeating : 
I  only  indulged  in  it  for  the  amusement  of  the  girls  —  of 
myself,  rather,  by  rousing  their  curiosity,  which,  if  they 
are  like  their  Yankee  cousins,  they  will  go  a  great  wav  to 
gratify." 


BLOOM     AND     IJ  U  1  E  K  .  55 

**  Thauk  you,  sir ;  no  Yankee  cousin  for  me,  if  you 
please ;  and,  besides,  cousin,  that  is  an  unhandsome  opin- 
ion of  yours.  But  one  thing  I  do  thank  you  for,  and  father 
will  also,  I  think,  as  he  very  often  says  that  Laura  is  the 
finest  girl  in  the  whole  country,  and  the  most  admired,  but 
has  never  yet  broken  a  single  heart,  nor  even  had  one  cer- 
tain, acknowledged  beau ;  and  tells  her  the  prospect  is  that 
she  will  always  remain  a  spinster.  Is  it  not  so,  father?" 
said  she,  addressing  him. 

"  I  believe  I  have  jokingly  used  such  words." 

"Your  fears  may  now  be  at  an  end,  sir,  for  cousin 
Henry  has  promised  her  one,  by  the  conjunctions  of  the 
planets,  as  he  calls  it — certainly  they  cannot  make  mis- 
takes —  and  was  so  generous,  too,  as  to  —  " 

"  Come,  Lucy,"  suddenly  interrupted  both  Laura  and 
Henry,  the  latter  reddening  with  the  deepest  rose-flush, 
"  don't  repeat  our  mischievous  nonsense ! " 

"  Oh,  well,  certainly  not,  if  it  occasions  a  mutual  blush  ; 
but  I  really  did  not  look  upon  it  as  such  nonsense ;  that 
part  of  the  affair  seemed  very  fine  to  me." 

It  is  but  just  to  Lucy  to  say  that  she  had  begun  to  tell 
of  the  prophecy  in  regard  to  Laura  and  Henry  in  all  good 
feeling,  having,  in  the  winding  up  of  her  cousin's  strange 
jargon,  conceived  the  idea  that  he  was  insinuating  a  future 
union  between  himself  and  her,  and  at  once  approving  it, 
was  about  to  disclose  the /a/iciju^  prophecy,  just  to  see  how 
the  real  proposition  would  be  received  by  her  father,  if  it 
should  ever  be  made. 

"  Ah,  Henry,"  said  Mrs.  Brandon,  who  had  not  before 
spoken,  and  at  once  catching  at  the  idea  which  he  and 
Laura  had  unitedly  interrupted  Lucy  in  disclosing,  "  I 
had  little  thought  to  see  so  wild  a  boy  turn  sentimentalist 
in  his  manhood ;  and  none  but  the  purest  romancist  ever 
dreams  of  admiring  a  cousin.  I  am  so  matter-of-fact  as 
to  render  all  such  arrangements  very  distasteful  to  me." 


56  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Lucy  saw,  by  this  reply  of  her  mother,  that  lier  sup- 
pressed remarks  had  been  perfectly  comprehended,  and  was 
quite  astonished  at  its  evident  significance  and  sharpness. 

Laura,  seeing  it  also,  saw^  proper  to  say,  while  she  blushed 
very  deeply,  "  You  need  feel  in  no  danger  of  having  your 
opinions  disturbed,  mother,  for  our  astral  cousin  did  him- 
self break  his.  own  magical  conjurations,  by  revealing  (as 
he  says)  the  story  of  our  confluent  fortunes,  and  thus  I 
am  still  left  to  pursue  the  solitary  pleasures  of  spinster- 
hood." 

Mr.  Brandon  now  turning  to  his  nephew,  said,  "  Come, 
Henry,  walk  with  me  into  the  library.  I  presume  you 
have  had  enough  of  this  '  woman-kind '  for  an  hour  or  so." 

And  the  two  left  the  parlor  together  for  the  place  ap- 
pointed. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"Let  us  consider  the  reason  of  the  case;  for  nothing  is  law,  that  is  not 
reason." 

WE  have  elsewhere  said  that  the  two  brothers,  Robert 
and  St.  George  Brandon,  were  educated  men,  and  gen- 
tlemen of  high  culture  in  the  arts  of  polite  society.  Even 
when  participating  in  the  sports  peculiar  to  the  country  at 
the  time  of  its  first  settlement,  the  chase,  the  infant  race- 
course, and  the  gay  meetings  of  the  social  circle,  they  still 
were  students,  and  each  had  his  select  law,  political,  and 
literary  library,  which  occupied  much  of  his  time. 

After  the  death  of  his  brother,  Mr.  Robert  Brandon  sud- 
denly and  entirely  gave  up  all  sporting  of  whatever  kind, 
and  divided  his  time  between  his  books  and  attention  to 
his  increased  business  responsibilities ;  and  at  the  time,  of 


BLOOM     AND     BKIEK.  57 

which  we  are  writing,  he  had  already  been  pressed  into  the 
service  of  the  State,  by  having  had  conferred  on  him  several 
positions  of  honor,  and  was  at  the  immediate  time  one  of 
the  "  electors  at  large  "  on  the  Whig  ticket,  Mr.  Clay  and 
Mr.  Polk  being  candidates  for  the  Presidency  of  the  Repub- 
lic, and  was  especially  preparing  to  meet  Colonel  Haywood, 
a  speaker  of  very  great  ability  on  the  Democratic  ticket, 
for  Mr.  Polk.  The  canvass  had  been  already  opened,  and 
very  soon  Mr.  Brandon  was  to  visit  a  distant  part  of  the 
State,  which  would  occasion  him  to  be  absent  for  several 
weeks.  This  was  his  reason  for  wishing  to  have  all  the 
private  conversation  possible  with  his  nephew^  as  the  latter 
was  already  within  a  few  months  of  his  majority,  and 
thought  it  proper  to  give  him  some  general  account  of  his 
property. 

After  explaining  these  matters  to  him  in  general  terms, 
he  cursorily  advised  with  him  as  to  his  future  personal 
course,  saying  to  him  that  "  the  law,  apart  from  its  being 
a  profession,  was  the  highest  finish  to  the  education  of  a 
gentleman,  and  in  all  countries  the  chief  high-road  to 
distinction  —  particularly  is  this  the  truth  in  a  republican 
country.  It  may  be  a  little  sophomorean,  perhaps,  to 
bring  up  the  instance  of  Rome ;  but  the  history  of  its 
leading  men,  during  its  most  eminent  period,  is  so  aptly 
in  point,  and  so  frequently  referred  to,  that  you  must  par- 
don me  for  directing  your  attention  to  it.  There  were  but 
two  roads  to  fortune  and  fame  in  that  republic  —  one  of 
which  led  through  the  army,  the  other  through  the  law. 
If  I  mistake  not,  in  the  time  of  Cicero  —  and  certainly 
the  most  brilliant  period  of  her  history,  and  the  culmi- 
nating point  of  her  glory  —  all  men  of  prominence,  whether 
engaged  or  not  in  the  law  at  the  time,  yet  had  been,  at 
some  previous  time,  distinguished  as  advocates :  Caesar 
had  been,  ^lark  Antony  had  been,  Pompey  also,  I  think, 
and  indeed  all  who  figured  at  the  time  of  the  Triumvirate. 


58  BLOO>f    AXD    BRIER. 

These  facts  are  almost  literally  true  in  English,  and  in 
our  own  short  history.  As  I  have  said,  this  is  particu- 
larly the  truth  in  representative  governments,  where  all 
questions  of  importance  come  before  the  people  for  discus- 
sion and  judgment,  in  some  manner  or  other,  either  as  to 
their  practical  bearings  or  constitutional  features.  The 
correctness  of  these  assertions  is  generally  undeniable, 
and,  for  peculiar  reasons,  applies  with  especial  force  in 
the  South,  rendering  it  important  that  every  man  of  intel- 
ligence, whether  his  fortune  and  taste  invite  him  to  the 
study  or  not,  should  thoroughly  inform  himself  in  all  mat- 
ters of  political  economy  and  constitutional  laAV,  even 
should  he  see  proper  to  go  no  farther." 

Young  Brandon  replied  to  his  uncle,  that  he  had  always 
intended  directing  his  attention  to  the  law,  but  had  never 
attributed  to  it  that  importance  in  the  affairs  of  the  South 
with  which  he  seemed  to  invest  it ;  but,  in  the  face  of  this 
intention,  he  had  to  confess  to  some  disrelish,  on  the  score 
of  what  had  been  represented  to  him  as  its  pettifoggery. 

"Yes,"  replied  his  uncle,  "that  objection  can  be  easily 
urged  against  it  by  young  men  of  fortune ;  yet  you  must 
remember  that  the  abuses  which  attend  upon  any  profes- 
sion are  not  legitimate  objections  to  it  —  they  are  as  bar- 
nacles upon  the  bottoms  of  great  men-of-war." 

"  Then,  uncle,  as  you  look  upon  the  profession  in  that 
light,  would  it  not  be  better  to  lay  a  scientific  foundation 
by  attending  some  one  of  the  law-schools  ?  " 

"  Your  general  idea  is  correct,  but  subject  to  a  specific 
qualification,  which  is,  that  the  law-schools  of  this  country 
do  not  sufficiently  confine  themselves  to  the  common  law, 
but  involve  and  complicate  their  instructions  with  local 
constructions  of  constitutional  law ;  and  these  sectional 
idiosyncrasies  of  interpretation  are  already  exerting  a 
prejudicial  influence  on  the  peaceful  relations  of  the  North- 
ern States  with  the  Southern." 


BLOOM    AND    BRIEK.  59 

"Perhaps  I  ilo  not  clearly  comprehend  you.  Will  you 
give  me  a  more  definite  idea  of  vour  meaninir?" 

"I  can  give  you  a  clearer  general  idea  of  it,  but  have 
not  the  time  to  pursue  the  subject  in  its  ramifications :  for 
instance,  I  mean  that  the  Hamiltoxian,  or  high  Federal 
style  of  opinion,  prevails  in  the  Northern  schools,  while 
the  Jeffersoxiax,  or  ultra  State -sovereignty  doctrine, 
rules  in  the  Southern.  These  theories  differ  widely  in 
practical  results,  and  will  assuredly  lead  to  sectional  col- 
lisions before  the  lapse  of  many  years ;  indeed,  they  have 
nearly  done  so  already,  in  the  case  of  South  Carolina  and 
the  Government." 

"  It  has  never  occurred  to  me  that  the  sections  would 
ever  come  in  serious  sectional  collision  on  the  score  of 
constitutional  law ;  but  I  have  thought  that  this  fanatical 
excitement  they  are  beginning  to  get  up  at  the  North,  in 
regard  to  African  slavery,  might  lead  to  some  trouble." 

"  Yes,  even  that  movement  is  remotely  based  upon  the 
teachings  of  their  schools.  But  the  case  of  South  Car.)- 
lina  is  a  substantial  premonition  of  what  is  to  come.  Mr. 
Calhoun  still  pushes  the  doctrines  of  Mr.  Jefferson  to  the 
farthest  extent,  while  Adams,  Webster,  and  others  as  stren- 
uously advocate  the  Hamiltonian-federal  doctrine.  Mr. 
Calhoun's  centrifugal  doctrines,  carried  out  to  their  legit- 
imate results,  are  destructive  of  all  government ;  while  Mr. 
Vv'ebster's  idea  of  the  centripetal  forces  of  government  are 
equally  destructive  of  our  federative  system.  Where  to 
go,  and  how  far  to  go,  with  each  of  these  doctrines,  so  as 
to  preserve  the  republic,  and  save  the  only  institution 
upon  which  the  prosperity  of  the  extreme  South  entirely 
depends  —  at  this  time,  at  least  —  is  the  great  obligation 
resting  upon  Southern  intellect.  We  have  some  certain 
mental  and  social  features,  in  the  South,  of  which  it  is 
difficult  to  trace  the  lineage,  but  which  we  know  are  well- 
iiigh  as  dangerous  and  destructive,  from  resentment,  as  we 


60  E  LOOM    AND    BRIErv. 

know  the  correlatives  to  be  in  the  North,  from  fanaticism. 
The  Northern  people,  even  in  their  very  best  intellect,  fur- 
nish nothing  that  can  be  called  statesmanship.  The  leaders, 
equally  with  the  people,  are  ever  crossing  their  own  paths. 
We  know  not  what  to  expect  from  them,  but  have  every 
thing  to  apprehend.  But,  to  return  to  the  subject  directly, 
I  would  advise  you,  from  this  antagonistic  condition  of 
the  law-schools,  to  enter  the  office  of  some  one  of  our  own 
best  lawyers,  so  that,  if  you  are  to  imbibe  any  prejudice, 
it  may  be  a  home  prejudice ;  but  be  as  guarded  as  possible 
against  all  of  them.  We  shall  not  want  provincial  preju- 
dices in  the  terrible  day  that  is  coming,  but  sentiments, 
ventilated  by  a  thorough  national  spirit,  and  having  for  its 
object  the  preservation  of  popular  liberty  untinctured  of 
personal  license,  and  the  welfare  of  all  the  sections  without 
bias  in  the  distribution  of  favors." 

Continuing  this  style  of  conversation  for  some  time 
longer,  with  a  gradual  return  to  matters  of  a  more  personal 
character,  they  ended  their  interview  at  the  library,  and 
returned  to  the  drawing-room. 

Mrs.  Brandon  was  still  sitting  there,  seemingly  engaged 
with  her  needle,  and  as  young  Brandon  thought,  with  her 
face  wearing  something  like  an  expression  o^ ungraciousness^ 
while  Lucy  was  sitting  near  a  distant  window  with  a  book 
before  her,  but  scarcely  to  be  said  had  been  reading.  An 
evident  uneasiness  had  grown  up  from  some  quarter.  Laura 
was  not  present,  and  as  he  did  not  ask,  her  absence  re- 
mained unaccounted  for.  But  Henry,  while  sensitive  and 
in  some  respects  timid,  had  a  certain  sort  of  boldness  which 
vivacity  of  intellect  always  furnishes,  and,  though  young, 
was  too  well  skilled  in  a  knowledge  of  the  human  heart 
to  allow  himself  to  be  trampled  down  so  soon.  Seating 
himself  near  his  aunt,  as  he  entered  the  room,  in  some 
measure  he  renewed  the  conversation  which  had  been  inter- 
rupted by  going  to  the  library  with  his  uncle. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  61 

"Aunt,"  said  he,  *'a  very  interesting  subject  had  some- 
how most  inadvertently  suggested  itself  just  as  I  left  the 
room,  and  I  do  not  feel  willing  to  leave  it  in  the  rather 
hedrabbltd  condition  we  had  placed  it  in."     Lucy  imme- 
diately drew  nearer  to  her  mother,  with  a  shy  sort  of  fun 
twinkling  in  her  eye,  as  the  conversation  was  again  in- 
troduced, which  slie  had  conie  out  of  rather  more  ahabhily 
than  any  of  the  party.      "I  think  you  remarked   that 
no  one  but  the  purest  romancist  ever  admired  a  cousin. 
I  think,  madam,  you  have  forgotten  the  fact  that  the  sub- 
ject, so  far  from  being  looked  upon  from  a  sentimental 
point,  has  long  engaged  the  attention  of  the  astutest  min- 
isters in  the  Cabinets  of  Europe.     The  heaviest  matters  of 
state  are  made  to  turn  on  the  marriages  of  cousins;  even 
the  balances  of  power  between   their  governments'  often 
turn  on  these  alliances.     Indeed,  the  nobility  of  Europe 
marry  no  one  else  but  cousins.     Now,  aunt,  I  dare  not  say 
that  this  romantic  question,  as  you  call  it,  possesses  any 
especial  interest  for  myself;  but  then,  just  stepping  on  the 
threshold  of  joyous  manhood  as  I  am,  I  have  some  few 
twitchings  of  the  nerves,  if  not  of  the  heart,  at  seeing  the 
broad  and  beautiful  field  of  my  observations  lessene°d  in 
any  of  its  boundaries.     I  may  yield  you  the  specific  ques- 
tion of  matrimony  with  my  cousins,  but  cannot  give  up  the 
general  one  — by  no  means,  madam." 

Mrs.  Brandon,  not  able  to  suppress  a  smile  at  the  evi- 
dent ingeniousnessof  the  young  gentleman,  and  being  very 
clearly  pleased  with  his  dashing  but  respectful  elegance 
of  ^manner,  said  to  him,  in  an  agreeable  tone  of  voice : 
"Henry,  I  think  you  must  aspire  to  a  foreign  embassy, 
you  seem  so  well  skilled,  or  informed,  in  the  diplomacy  of 
foreign  courts,  in  regard  to  matrimony  at  least." 

^  "  No,  madam ;  as  yet  I  have  looked  no  higher  than  the 
diplomacy  of  domestic  courts.'' 

The  ambiguity  of  this  remark  again  brought  the  slightest 
6 


62  BLOOM    AND    ERIER. 

appearance  of  a  shadow  over  her  handsome  face,  and  she 
made  no  reply.  Lucy  then  made  the  remark,  that  "though 
it  \Yas  the  general  practice  of  royal  and  noble  families,  it 
was  always  between  cousins  who  were  strangers  to  each 
other ;  and  therefore  there  was  but  slight  social  resem- 
blance, and  a  perfect  obliviousness  to  the  few  or  many 
faults  of  each  other ;  and  consequently  but  little  more  harm 
of  any  sort  could  grow  out  of  the  custom  there  than  from 
marriages  between  strangers.  On  the  other  hand,  she  did 
not  think  that  any  considerable  harm  could  grow  out  of  the 
system  in  this  country,  even  if  the  question  was  left  open, 
and  recognized  without  prejudice;  from  the  fact  that  so  very 
few  would  ever  take  place,  for  here,  families  generally  lived 
near  each  other,  and  their  young  members  were  familiar 
with  each  other's /oi^/e-s,  failings,  faults,  and  infirmities,  of 
all  kinds,  and  presented  to  each  other  but  few  inducements 
to  love-making." 

"Most  grandly  delivered,  my  pretty  cousin;  but  me- 
thinks  a  little  involved  in  its  meaning  —  something  of  the 
blow  hot  and  blow  cold  about  it." 

"  Ah,  you  need  not  be  so  spicy  in  your  remarks,  cousin," 
said  she,  laughing.     "I  was  not  personal." 

"  Of  course  not,  as  I  am  vain  enough  to  believe  that,  if 
you  had  desired  to  be,  you  could  not  have  so  expressed 
yourself" 

Laura  entered  the  room  at  this  moment ;  and,  as  if  by 
some  strange  common  consent,  the  subject  was  dropped, 
and  conversation  assumed  a  general  tone,  until  the  servant 
entered  and  invited  her  mistress  to  the  dining-room. 

At  the  table,  conversation  still  kept  up  its  gay  and  lively 
character,  not  a  moment  being  allowed  to  flag.  After 
several  courses  had  passed,  Henry  spoke  to  Laura,  and 
asked  if  they  were  indebted  to  her  skill  for  any  part  of  the 
sumptuous  repast  they  were  enjoying. 

"  Yes,  everything  of  this  kind  at  Starlight  is  in  some- 


B  L  O  O  M     A  X  D    B  R  I  E  R  .  03 

wise  connected  or  associated  Avitli  me,  as  I  have  for  more 
than  a  year  now,  held  the  high  office  of  chief  butler. 
Mother  gives  general  directions,  and  I  have  the  details 
executed.  I  begin  to  think  that  slie  has  made  a  lifetime 
api)ointment  of  it,  nolens  volens  on  my  part.  I  have  some- 
times been  a  little  remiss,  just  to  see  if  it  would  affect  my 
involuntary  tenure ;  but  it  did  not,  and  it  still  clings  to  me 
as  the  old  man  of  the  sea  did  to  Sinbad." 

"  I  can  congratulate  you  upon  the  honorable  post,  and 
for  the  very  handsome  manner  in  which  you  perform  its 
duties ;  and  by  way  of  encouragement  will  promise  to 
make  you  happy  with  my  frequent  presence.  Four  years 
at  college  has  just  put  me  that  much  behind  in  matters  of 
the  table ;  and  I  expect  to  devote  a  good  deal  of  time  to 
catching  up.  What  say  you  to  my  dividing  time  between 
yourself  and  Violet  ?  " 

*'0h,  I  think  the  arrangement  would  be  delightful  in- 
deed. I  could  please  such  a  boarder  to  the  ninth  part  of 
a  hair." 

"Perhaps  I  do  not  understand  your  figure,  Miss.  You 
do  not  certainly  mean  to  leave  that  —  " 

"  Certainly  not,  sir,"  she  replied,  laughing ;  "  I  meant  to 
express  perfection." 

"  Pardon,  the  misapprehension ;  but  perhaps,  as  I  hear 
no  echo  to  your  welcome,  I  may  be  letting  my  gustatory 
enthusiasm  bear  me  ahead  of  an  invitation.  AVould  it  not 
be  better  that  I  get  one  from  some  higher  authority  than 
that  of  the  chief  cooh,  to  attend  the  cuisine  of  Starlight? 
What  says  Lady  Brandon  ?  "  archly  turning  to  his  aunt  as 
he  referred  to  her. 

"  Certainly,  Henry,  make  the  table  of  *  Starlight '  your 
own,  just  as  you  did  in  your  boyhood;  but  with  the  under- 
standing that  you  never  forget  that  I  am  Aunt,  and  not 
Lady  Brandon,  or  anything  else  —  that  you  are  to  be  my 
nephew,  and  not  a  ceremonious  visitor.     Now,  sir,  is  not 


64  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

that  a  sufficiently  welcome  invitation  ? "  saying  this,  as 
Henry  thought,  with  rather  2l  forced  smile. 

He  was  something  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  the  meaning 
of  his  aunt's  various  postulates ;  but  choosing  not  to  ob- 
serve any  probable  peculiarity  in  them,  merely  replied: 

"  Most  assuredly,  madam ;  nothing  shall  be  otherwise 
than  as  you  say,  unless  you  yourself  shall  see  proper  to 
make  a  change." 

In  spite  of  his  assumed  indifference  to  the  meaning  of  his 
aunt,  his  face  flushed  as  he  made  this  reply.  Lucy,  observ- 
ing it,  said  to  her  mother,  that  cousin  Henry  would  be 
qualified  off  from  them,  even  before  he  became  fully  do- 
mesticated again. 

"  I  cannot  see  why,"  she  answered  ;  "as  my  requests  are 
very  simple,  and  my  invitation  very  cordial ;  they  are,  at 
least,  so  intended,"  smiling  very  pleasantly  both  at  Henry 
and  her  daughters,  as  she  said  this. 

The  shadowy  apprehensions  of  a  possible  love-affair 
were  certainly  indicated  by  the  words  of  Mrs.  Brandon, 
which  Mr.  Kobert  Brandon  perceiving,  said  to  her  that 
she  and  the  young  people  were  clearly  getting  into  a  tangle 
wdiich  might  result  in  a  Gordian  knot. 

This  remark,  instead  of  making  matters  easier,  only  in- 
creased the  little  embarrassment  that  was  brewing.  He  had 
more  than  half  intended  it,  and  was  now  enjoying  his  pre- 
tended mistake  in  the  laughing  eye  and  blushing  cheek  of 
Laura ;  but  asked  pardon  for  his  unseasonable  interference 
in  their  imbroglio,  and  begged  to  withdraw. 

Henry  Brandon  laughed  heartily,  and,  resolving  not  to 
become  embarrassed,  said  in  an  undertone  to  Laura,  while 
his  uncle  was  speaking : 

"  Cousin,  there  is  something  here  suggestive  of  an  unde- 
fined event,  wherein  you  and  I  are  to  act  a  part.  Shall  we 
attempt  to  name  it  now,  or  leave  it  to  the  wiser  fates?  " 

At  this  bold  question,  a  look  of  innocent  confusion  came 


B  L  ()  O  M     A  N  D     B  R  I  E  R  .  65 

over  the  beautiful  face  of  the  happy  girl,  as  she  quickly 
replied,  in  the  same  undertone,  "To  the  fates." 

Henry,  now  addressing  his  aunt,  asked  if  he  might 
propose  a  sentiment  to  the  girls,  to  which  she  of  course 
assented.  He  then  raised  his  glass,  first  to  Laura,  and 
then  to  Lucy,  and  said,  "  Every  heart  to  its  earliest  hope." 
All  treated  it  as  a  jest,  and  drank  to  the  sentiment. 

But  oh!  the  terrible  truth  of  many  a  jest!  and  there 
was  a  strange  truth  in  all  their  jests  that  day,  that  threw 
their  long  shadows  into  many  a  distant  year,  which  only 
faded  all  away  in  the  still  twilight  of  eternity,  with  the 
sad,  sweet  life  of  one  who  sank  beneath  the  sorrow  of  a 
broken  heart. 

In  spite  of  the  many  little  glimmerings  of  a  comiiirf 
tempest  that  had  showed  themselves  that  day,  Henry  Bran- 
don was  delighted  with  his  visit ;  and  as  he  rode  over  the 
beautiful  prairies,  on  his  return  home,  at  half-speed,  and 
with  a  merry  heart,  there  constantly  rose  before  him  the 
half-sad  face  of  Laura,  as  she  said,  "  To  the  fates."  He 
was  happy  at  the  vision,  but  wondered  why  it  came.  It 
was  the  first  star  of  evening ;  and  the  light  was  soft  and 
lovely,  as  it  danced  away  off  on  the  distant  sky ;  and  the 
first,  too,  of  a  long  and  gloomy  night,  which  was  to  darken 
his  own  sad  way  through  many  troubled  years. 


CHAPTER  X. 


The  dog,  to  gain  some  private  ends, 
Went  mad,  and  bit  the  man. 
The  man  recovered  of  the  bite. 
The  dog  it  was  that  died." 


A  MILD  Indian-summer  sun  was  shedding  its  mellow 
evening  light  upon  the  landscape,  and  gave  to  nature 
that  look  of  sad  and  sweet  repose  which  ever  drapes  the 


66  BLOOM    AND    BKTER. 

dying  year  in  this  Southern  hmd.  The  soft  October  breeze, 
\Yhile  floating  along,  seemed  as  gently  to  breathe  its  life 
away,  as  doth  despairing  love  when  ^Yhispering  the  low 
music  of  a  last  farewell.  Oh!  who  hath  never  felt  the 
charmed  influence  of  its  strange  romance !  and  not  felt, 
too,  that  even  human  life  itself  was  an  angel's  happy 
dream  wandering  off"  from  heaven! 

As  the  careless  young  rider  dashed  wildly  over  the  wide 
prairie,  with  the  swiftly  moving  wind  sweeping  out  his  long 
black  hair,  and  fanning  his  high,  broad  brow,  there  came  a 
beauty  and  a  freshness  to  his  thoughts  and  feelings  such  as 
he  had  never  known  before.  There  was  no  method  in  their 
passing,  nor  was  there  any  action  of  the  mind,  but  rather 
the  unfettered  communings  of  the  soul  with  the  spirit  of 
nature,  as  it  lay  nestled  in  the  chambers  of  his  noble 
heart;  these  commingling  their  lights  and  shadows  into  one, 
threw  out  a  bow  of  promise  to  his  gaze  that  told  of  love, 
of  hope,  of  joy,  and  ambition,  and  shed  the  bright,  but 
fleeting  light  through  which  his  life  would  pass.  There 
were  colors  there,  that  told  of  death  and  sorrow  too,  but 
these  he  did  not  see,  and  knew  not  of.  Ah !  who  doth  not, 
in  later  years,  remember  the  blindness  of  a  boy's  eye,  and 
the  boldness  of  a  boy's  heart,  and  loveth  not  the  sweet 
memory  too  ? 

Such  were  the  visions,  the  hopes,  the  feelings,  and  con- 
fused emotions  of  Henry  Brandon,  in  his  wild,  half-speed 
ride  from  Starlight. 

The  sun  had  just  sunk  down,  and  the  first  gray  twilight 
had  swung  its  mystic  mantle  over  the  lawn  that  lay  spread 
out  before  the  gate  at  "  Buckhorns,"  as  Henry  rode  up.  His 
arrival  there  was  seen  by  a  gang  of  little  negroes  at  the 
*'  quarter,"  all  of  whom,  according  to  the  old  custom,  had 
assembled  to  sing  their  parting  evening  song,  and  came  at 
full  speed  to  open  it.  As  soon  as  they  discovered  it  to  be 
"  Mass  Henry"  —  of  whom  they  had  just  heard  for  the  first 


B  L  O  O  M     A  N  I)     n  K  I  E  R  .  67 

tirae  in  their  lives  — they  raised  a  yell  of  the  wildest  de- 
light, and  eaoh  increased  his  speed  as  far  as  possible,  with 
the  great  ambition  of  being  first  to  meet  him. 

In  the  times  long  ago,  when  these  gates  were  in  sight  of 
the  "  quarter,"  they  were  most  closely  watched  by  the  little 
negroes,  who  were  trained  to  do  so  by  the  old  ones  having 
them  in  charn:o,  and  no  one  could  approach  without  find- 
ing a  little  fellow  there  ready  to  open  it  and  welcome  him, 
who,  in  turn,  seldom  went  without  his  recompense  in  the 
shape  of  a  sevenpence,  or  a  piece  of  tobacco  for  "granny." 
But  this  is  all  over  with :  who  the  loser  will  be,  let  the 
future  tell. 

As  the  gate  was  opened  for  Henry,  the  whole  gang  of 
little  fellow\s  crowded  round  his  horse,  to  tell  him  "  howdy: " 
some  were  fortunate  enough  to  get  his  hand,  while  others 
got  him  by  the  feet,  and  others  still  had  to  content  them- 
selves by  calling  from  the  outside  of  the  crowd  :  "  Here  I 
is,  Mass  Henry;  howdy  do,  sah?"  and  gratuitously  inform- 
ing him :  "  I  is  well,  sah ;  how^  is  you  ? "  Henry  Bran- 
don, the  master,  the  protector,  the  friend,  the  servant  of 
a  hundred  slaves,  appeared  quite  as  delighted  with  this 
meeting  together  of  himself  and  little  dependants  as  they 
did  themselves,  and  answered  every  question  it  was  pos- 
sible for  him  to  reply  to,  in  the  style  of  their  own  garru- 
lous speech. 

^  As  they  followed  him  to  the  house,  closely  packed  about 
his  horse's  head,  sides,  and  heels,  each  one  was  relating,  in 
the  highest  key-note  of  his  voice,  some  wonderful  perform- 
ance and  qualities  of  his  o^vn,  which  were,  of  course,  disputed 
by  his  Highest  friend  whenever  he  could  get  time,  in  the 
periods  of  his  own  narrative,  to  do  so ;  but  all  united  in 
promising  to  do  some  considerable  service  for  "Mass 
Henry  "before  he  went  away  again.  Happy  little  crea- 
tures, many  of  whose  lives  were  destined  to  end  in  the 
most  squalid  misery,  through  the  mistaken   philanthropy 


68  BI.OOM    AND    BKIER. 

of  those  who  came  aud  prochiimed  themselves  good  friends, 
and  sang  them  siren  songs  of  liberty! 

The  old  of  the  people,  as  they  wander  along  in  friend- 
less freedom,  will  sigh  and  weep  again  for  the  old  master's 
care,  and  for  the  old  quarter  home,  aud  in  blind  despair 
will  oft  reach  out  their  long,  thin  hands  for  the  string  of 
the  cabin  latch.  But  alas!  the  door  no  longer  swings  upon 
the  rustic  hinge,  and  the  old  cabin  has  gone  to  decay, 
while  they  who  called  thee  free,  have  early  come  to  claim 
the  guerdon  of  their  work  in  thy  wretched  suffrage.  Thy 
little  ones  are  already  taught  to  think  the  little  masters  of 
their  early  day,  who  joined  them  in  their  joyous  evening 
songs  and  revelries,  to  be  their  only  enemies.  But  time 
sets  all  things  even,  and  then  —  and  then  —  no  matter 
now,  't  is  over. 

Thou  wert  our  household  once  —  we  knew  thee,  and  we 
loved  thee,  too,  but  now,  thou  art  estranged  and  gone 
away.  Peace  be  unto  thee !  For  the  past,  we  thank  thee ; 
for  the  future,  farewell ! 

As  Henry  Brandon  entered  the  house,  he  was  met  by 
Violet  and  Thomas  Hunter,  who  had  come  to  the  door 
for  the  purpose  of  learning  the  cause  of  the  rather  extra- 
ordinary discussion  and  clamor.  Comprehending  the  na- 
ture of  it  in  a  moment,  as  they  saw  the  retiring  group, 
Hunter  said  to  him,  jocularly : 

"A  small  imitation  of  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  Henry." 

"  Yes,  an  involuntary  one,  however ;  but  a  very  noisy 
one.  It  was  a  scene  for  a  painter.  Do  you  recollect  the 
painting,  Hunter,  that  hangs  in  the  rotunda  at  AVashing- 
ton,  '  Saturday  Evening  in  Old  Virginia,'  by  Trumbull,  I 
believe?" 

"  Very  well ;  and  it  never  failed  to  bring  up  a  thousand 
home  feelings." 

**  So  it  did  with  me ;  it  was  national  in  its  character,  as 
well  as  local  in  association,  and  I  used  to  notice  that  it 


BLOOM     A  N  D     li  R  I  E  R  .  69 

pleased  even  Yankees,  who  knew  nothing  of  the  South. 
That  scene  a  while  ago,  would  make  a  good  picture  to 
hang  beside  it :  *  The  return  of  the  young  master.'  But 
I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Tom.  I  expected  you  this  evening. 
That  Friar  Tuck  sort  of  establishment  of  yours,  over 
which  you  went  into  such  ecstasies  when  first  placed 
in  proprietorship,  I  knew  would  soon  stale,  and  lose 
all  its  charms.  Do  you  remember  those  sylvan  idyls 
you  carolled  of  it,  in  your  letters,  when  you  first  came 
home?" 

"Very  well;  but  then,  my  vain  friend,  do  you  forget 
that  '  Buckhorns '  hath  other  inmates  than  yourself,  who 
may  well  divide  the  honor  of  my  visit  with  you  ? " 

"  Well,  Tom,  I  hurried  away  from  the  presence  of  my 
pretty  cousins,  to  meet  you  here ;  and  I  think  I  shall  be 
tempted  to  return,  if  you  wull  confess  that  this  visit  was 
not  to  me,  and  that  I  am  not  under  any  obligation  to  en- 
tertain you." 

"  Just  as  you  please,  young*  man  ;  but  I  shall  make  no 
confessions,''  said  he,  laughing. 

"  Young  gentlemen,  your  salutations  at  the  least  have 
the  recommendation  of  perfect  ease :  is  such  the  college 
d-la-modef"  said  Violet. 

"  Yes,"  said  Henry,  jocularly ;  "  if  no  particular  mode 
at  all  is  d  la  mode.'' 

"No,  Miss  Violet,  this  is  some  new  style  which  my 
hopeful  friend  has  picked  up  in  the  last  few  months. 
During  my  stay  there,  we  were  the  very  pinks  of  etiquette; 
the  knightly  rules  of  the  Round  Table  prevailed  among 
us  in  all  the  noble  punctilio  of  the  court  of  King  Arthur." 

"  I  had  half  supposed  as  much ;  and  that  is  just  why, 
my  brother,  that  Mr.  Hunter  has  done  this  violence  to  his 
feelings,  and  created  the  impression  that  his  visit  is  to 
mother  and  myself,  when  we  are  bound  to  believe  that  it 
was  to  yourself,  as  by  the  teachings  of  Sir  Launcelot,  Sir 


70  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Tristram,  and  other  noble  knights,  females  were  given  the 
preference  and  precedence  in  all  things." 

"  Ah,  Tom !  behold  "svhat  a  defender  you  have  in  my 
learned  sister  —  previous  training,  I  suspect;  and  those 
heroics  over  at  uncle  Robert  Brandon's,  the  other  day, 
have  had  their  full  influence.  'All 's  well  that  ends  well,* 
and  has  my  sanction,  too,  always  provided  there  is  no 
fainting  or  'sighing  like  a  furnace'  in  my  presence." 

Hunter  had  been  a  familiar  visitor  at  Mrs.  Brandon's 
house  since  his  boyhood,  and  had  ever  been  an  intimate 
friend  of  Henry  Brandon  in  all  the  years  of  their  youth 
and  manhood,  and  consequently  was  not  at  all  abashed  by 
the  insinuation  that  his  visit  was  to  Violet. 

"  Well,  and  what  effect,  Sir  Knight,  may  we  suppose 
your  own  assertion  of  love  and  fealty  had  upon  the  beau- 
tiful Lady  Laura?"  retorted  Hunter. 

"  A  very  happy  one,"  said  Violet,  "  if  any  inference  is 
to  be  drawn  from  the  very  pleasant  humor  in  which  he  has 
returned  from  her  presence.  He  must  at  least  have  in- 
tensified his  relationship." 

The  three  young  people  would  no  longer  have  restrained 
their  rising  laughter,  had  not  Mrs.  Brandon,  who  had  just 
joined  them,  prevented  it  by  saying,  "Come,  my  daughter, 
you  should  not  make  a  jest  in  that  direction  ;  you  know 
that  your  brother  feels  almost  as  nigh  to  Laura  as  to  your- 
self; and  such  jests  get  afloat  so  easily,  that  they  assume 
all  the  proportions  of  a  reality,  w^hich  would  certainly  em- 
barrass Laura,  without  serving  Henry." 

"  Thank  you,  mother,  for  your  reproof  of  these  young 
folks.  I  feel  that  they  deserve  it,  from  a  sort  of  bashful- 
ness  which  had  already  begun  to  creep  over  me.  But  really, 
if  the  truth  must  be  told,  cousin  Laura  does  begin  to  feel 
very  nigh  to  me,  more  than  I  thought  it  possible  for  a 
cousin  to  become." 

"  Perhaps  mother  is  right  then  ;  so,  for  the  future,  my 


BLOOM     AND    BRIER.  ^  71 

irapnident  brother,  I  shall  watch  you,  and  take  my  revenge 
in  some  other  quarter.  Cousin  Laura  is  not  the  only  nice 
girl  who  has  grown  up  within  a  day's  ride  of  this,  since 
you  left  for  college ; "  and  then  looking  at  her  brother, 
with  a  sly  mischief  lurking  in  her  eye,  said,  "Henceforth 
pretty  Laura  Brandon  shall  only  be  cousin  Laura." 

"  Ah,  sister,  why  not  let  me  have  a  small  love-pass  or 
two  with  our  lovely  cousin  before  you  enforce  the  Mosaic 
law.  I  can't  say  that  I  know  anything  of  these  matters 
actually,  but  it  occurs  to  me  that  a  gentle  little  affair  of 
the  heart  with  a  sweet  young  cousin  is  the  most  natural 
thing  on  earth,  and  the  very  prettiest  branch  of  love- 
making.  One  could  just  glide  into  it  without  ever  knowing 
when  or  how,  and  only  wake  up  to  a  consciousness  of  the 
truth  by  finding  his  whole  soul  filled  with  happiness.  I 
become  more  charmed  with  the  idea  the  longer  I  contem- 
plate it.  Rather  think  I  must  obtain  some  experience  in 
that  direction.  But,  in  good  truth,  Violet,  what  maiden 
fair  would  you  suggest  in  the  place  of  our  lovely  cousin  ? 
provided  I  should  consent  only  to  call  her  cousin." 

"  There  are  several." 

"  Well,  out  of  your  several,  name  some  particular  one." 

"  Yes,  I  will.  Let  me  see.  Suppose  I  say  Miss  Mary 
Gray,  daughter  of  old  Mr.  Gray,  in  the  lower  prairies.  She 
has  just  returned  from  Lc  Fabre's,in  Richmond,  and  issaid 
to  be  one  of  the  finest-looking  and  best  educated  girls  in 
tlie  whole  country.  Old  Mr.  Gray,  too,  is  said  to  be  a 
most  intelligent  gentleman,  and  very  wealthy,  if  these 
facts  are  of  any  importance  to  you." 

"  Certainly,  very  great.  Are  you  acquainted  with  this 
fine-looking,  well-educated  Miss  Gray,  just  from  Le  Fabre's 
school,  and  the  daughter  of  old  Mr.  Gray,  a  gentleman  of 
greatly  reputed  intelligence  and  wealth  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  no  ;  not  exactly.  I  mean  that  I  have  seen  her  ; 
but,  brother,  you  appear  so  annoyed  at  the  suggestion,  that 


72  BLOOMAXDBRIER. 

I  shall  be  more  wary  of  bestowing  my  kind  offices  upon 
you." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  are  mistaken ;  far  from  it.  The  idea 
strikes  me ;  it  has  some  ring  to  it,  and  you  make  a  very 
decidedly  strong  case  of  it.  Fine  -  looking,  highly  edu- 
cated, and  of  course  young,  and  charming  as  a  siren. 
Such  rare  combinations  seldom  meet  in  one  person.  How 
far  is  it  over  to  the  mansion  of  this  old  Mr.  Gray  and  his 
beautiful  daughter?  I  have  forgotten  all  about  that 
country." 

"  About  eight  or  ten  miles  ;  probably  not  so  far." 

"  Phew !  sister,  you  certainly  would  not  be  reconciled  to 
seeing  me  skylarking  over  eight  or  ten  miles  of  prairies 
every  few  days,  engaged  in  the  doubtful  labor  of  securing 
a  sweetheart,  merely  to  keep  me  from  falling  in  love  with 
one  of  the  sweetest  cousins  any  young  gentleman  ever 
boasted  of  —  would  you?  On  reflection,  I  don't  think  I 
can  make  the  sacrifice ;  too  great  a  draw  on  my  humanity. 
Indeed,  it  would  be  placing  myself  in  antagonism  with 
Leander  for  posthumous  fame.  These  prairies  would  be 
my  Hellespont,  and  I  should  certainly  come  to  grief  in 
their  passage  —  my  horse  certainly  would.  Never  mention 
it  again.  It  would  be  worse  than  any  of  the  twelve  labors 
of  Hercules.  No,  I  can't  do  that,  not  if  she  were  as  beau- 
tiful as  Hebe.  The  only  manner  that  suggests  itself  to  me 
of  solving  the  difficulty  is  for  her  to  follow  the  example 
of  the  Queen  of  Sheba  in  her  designs  upon  Solomon,  and 
come  to  see  me,  or  at  least,  as  the  Methodist  preachers  do, 
alternate  visits  with  me.  Ha !  ha !  ha !  Do  you  think 
you  could  negotiate  that  point  ?  " 

"  You  misapprehend  me,  brother.  I  am  not  opposing 
you  in  having  a  little  sentimental  affair,  as  you  call  it, 
with  cousin  Laura,  if  you  both  desire  it ;  but  then  you 
have  forgotten  aunt's  peculiar  disposition,  her  prejudices, 
in  event  of  her  not  relishing  the  idea.    You  know  she  never 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  73 

yields  a  point,  -when  she  lias  once  made  up  her  mind,  and 
cousin  Laura  never  disobeyed  her  in  her  life." 

Catching  at  the  last  idea,  he  said,  "Then  she  would 
make  me  a  most  dutiful  and  loving  wife — ay,  I  got  the 
word  out." 

"  No,  not  if  she  refused  to  marry  you,"  said  she,  laughing, 

*'0h,  hush,  Violet!  you  treat  the  matter  as  if  already 
begun,  and  wish  to  nip  my  young  passion  in  the  bud. 
You  compel  me  to  take  down  all  my  castles  in  the  air." 

"You  confess,  then,  to  have  been  engaged  in  castle- 
building,  with  cousin  Laura  for  your  lady-love? " 

"  Certainly  ;  who  could  resist  it  —  who  would  f  She  has 
the  chastest,  loveliest  face,  says  the  brightest  things,  sings 
the  prettiest  love-songs  ;  and  to  all  of  this,  the  very  spirit 
of  love  itself  seems  to  swim  in  her  eyes.  But,  never  mind, 
you  have  frightened  me  away.  Eight  miles  —  ten,  did  you 
say,  over  to  old  jockey  Gray's,  and  only  three  to  Mr.  Robert 
Brandon's — two  and  a  half  by  the  near  way?  Terrible 
difference !  But,  ho  for  the  maiden  ten  miles  away !  How 
old  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  About  nineteen,  I  think." 

"  What  the  color  of  her  eyes  ?  " 

"  Deep  blue." 

"  Fine,  again  !  Hair  black,  of  course  ?  Don't  like  your 
pale -haired  girls  —  too  namby-pamby  and  weakly,  like 
pale  sorrel  horses  —  rather  have  blood-red.    Tall,  or  short  ? " 

"  Quite  tall,  with  a  superb  figure  and  walk." 

"  Most  excellent  —  grand  !  I  can't  bear  your  short, 
shambling,  scuffling  little  women  —  generally  conceited 
and  petulant ;  but  the  devil  of  it  is,  1  believe  the  tall 
ones  are  too.  You  do  not  know  whether  she  sings  and 
dances?" 

"  No ;  but  I  suppose  she  does,  as  she  was  educated  at  a 
very  fashionable  school.     Old  Mr.  Gray,  however,  is  aa 


74  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

enthusiastic  Methodist,  endows  their  colleges,  builds  their 
churches,  and  supports  their  preachers,  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing." 

"  What?  That 's  a  bad  feature  in  the  affair :  I  fear  the 
old  man  has  n't '  much  ready  cash  wherewithal  to  endow 
this  lovely  daughter.  Wonder  if  she  knows  how  to  cooh  f 
That 's  the  chief  excellence  in  a  girl.  Yes,  give  me  one 
that  understands  making  apple-dumplings  — '  them  's  the 
jockeys  for  me,'  as  the  cockney  English  traveller  in  Venice 
said  to  poor  Shelley." 

"  I  can't  say  as  to  her  cooking  capacity,"  said  she,  laugh- 
ing; "but  I  think  Mr.  Gray  must  have  a  great  deal  of 
money,  as  I  have  heard  he  makes  good  crops  and  good 
bargains ;  and  perhaps  Miss  Gray  does  know  how  to  cooky 

"Yes — well  —  the  idea  you  give  me  of  the  old  gentle- 
man's character  is,  that  he  drives  his  negroes,  as  if  the  devil 
was  after  him,  all  the  week,  and  pinches  and  screws  his 
friends  and  neighbors,  to  obtain  the  wherewithal  to  pur- 
chase an  interest  in  heaven  on  the  next  meeting-daj." 

"  No ;  that  is  not  the  character  I  have  of  him  :  I  have 
always  heard  that  he  was  an  enthusiastic  Methodist,  a 
strong  Whig,  a  very  energetic,  thrifty  man,  but  a  very 
liberal  and  a  very  hospitable  one." 

"The  last  sounds  very  well ;  but  the  Methodist  part  — 
oh,  heavens!  Do  you  suppose  the  divine  demoiselle  be- 
longs to  that  unhappy,  self-torturing  denomination  ?  " 

"  She  probably  does,  but,  I  fancy,  without  any  of  their 
old-fashioned  peculiarities.  She  might  follow  you,  brother," 
said  she,  smiling. 

"  Perhaps  she  might ;  I  should  certainly  not  follow  her. 
Now,  I  don't  so  dislike  the  Methodist  people  —  they  are 
as  good,  perhaps,  as  others ;  but  then  they  have  talked  so 
much  about  free  will,  free  grace,  hell-fire,  and  such-like 
matters,  until  their  leadei's  always  look  to  be  in  agony, 
lest,  by  some  misstep,  they  fall  flat  into  the  bottomless  pit; 


R  L  O  O  M    AND    BRIER.  75 

niid  I  have  heard  them  pray  with  as  much  imploring  unc- 
tion as  if  already  partially  into  it." 

"Come,  brother,  you  should  be  more  particular  in  what 
you  say:  we  have  some  friends  who  belong  to  that  church." 
"I  can't  help  it,  if  all  my  friends  belonged  to  it;  but  I 
will  remember  your  caution.  Mary  Gray — a  very  pretty 
name  —  handsome,  young,  accomplished,  w^ealthy ;  father 
builds  churches,  etc.  On  the  other  hand,  Laura  Brandon 
—  a  majestic  name!  But,  never  mind,  I'll  think  the 
matter  over.  In  the  mean  while  it  is  growing  dark.  Sup- 
pose we  go  into  the  house." 

At  this  suggestion,  they  walked  into  the  drawing-room, 
which  had  already  been  lighted  up,  Violet  and  Hunter 
going  directly  to  the  piano,  while  Henry  flung  himself 
upon  the  sofa,  as  worried  with  his  own  thoughts,  and 
indifferent  to  the  promised  music. 

After  selecting  some  favorite  pieces  of  music.  Hunter 
turned  to  Henry,  who  had  not  spoken  a  word,  and  said  : 

"  Henry,  Miss  Violet  and  I  have  brought  the  science 
of  music  to  its  highest  provincial  proficiency.  Of  course, 
we  do  not  pretend  to  come  in  comparison  with  the  metro- 
politan masters  of  either  this  country  or  Germany ;  but 
we  will  allow  ijou  to  call  for  whatever  you  admire  most, 
whether  march,  waltz,  or  song." 

"  You  can  make  the  challenge  with  impunity.  Hunter, 
since  you  know,  of  old,  that  my  musical  tastes  and  attain- 
ments reach  no  higher  than  singing,  out  of  tune,  some 
half-dozen  old  songs,  beginning  with  the  *  Rose  of  Allan- 
dale,'  and  ending  with  *  Twilight  Dews.'  However,  since 
you  left  college,  I  branched  off  into  sacred  music  a  short 
distance,  and  can  now  go  through  a  stave  or  two  of  *  Old 
Hundred '  with  a  very  commendably  solemn  fervor." 

"  That  accomplishment  may  be  of  some  assistance  to  you, 
my  son,"  said  Mrs.  Brandon,  pleasantly,  who  had  just  seated  ^ 
herself  on  the  sofa  by  him.     "  Should  you  see  proper  to 


76  BLOOM    A  XD    BRIER. 

embrace  the  suggestion  which  I  think  I  overheard  your 
sister  make  to  you." 

"  Ah,  I  fear,  mother,  that  Violet  and  you  are  in  some 
universal  conspiracy  against  any  connubial  hope  that  I  may 
entertain.  I  had  but  just  begun  to  think  formally  of  the 
*  Mary  Gray '  idea,  when  forthwith  you  make  a  sly  fling 
at  the  family  of  my  contemplated  lady-love." 

"  You  misapprehend  me,  Henry,"  she  again  good- 
humoredly  replied.  "  I  only  made  the  remark  in  the  same 
vein  of  pleasantry  in  which  you  yourself  indulged." 

"  I  accept  the  explanation,  mother  ;  but  then  I  see  that 
the  lovely  Miss  Gray  is  associated  in  your  mind  with  psalm 
tunes,  long  agonizing  prayers,  and  the  whole  framework 
of  Methodism ;  but  that  shall  make  no  difierence  with  me 
now.  I  have  taken  the  matter  under  consideration,  at  least 
— Methodism ;  plantation,  money,  and  all.  Hunter,  you  and 
Violet  to  the  music." 

Hunter  performed  handsomely  on  the  flute,  and  had  one 
which  he  kept  at  Mrs.  Brandon's,  for  the  purpose  of  joining 
Violet  on  the  piano,  when  visiting  there. 

They  had  already  begun,  and,  like  all  real  lovers  of 
music,  became  absorbed  in  their  own  sweet  sounds,  and 
paid  but  little  attention  to  what  was  going  on  around  them 
— while  Henry  Brandon,  seated  on  the  sofa  with  his  mother, 
gradually  fell  into  an  undertone  conversation  with  her,  in 
the  course  of  which,  he  asked  if  there  was  not  some  sort  of 
engagement  between  Hunter  and  his  sister. 

"  Yes,  he  has  addressed  her,  and  there  is  some  under- 
standing between  them,  which  I  have  not  thought  proper  to 
interfere  with." 

"  I  have  thought,  from  several  little  moves  in  his  con- 
versation, that  he  wished  to  broach  the  subject,  but  seemed 
to  retire  from  it  again,  as  if  a  little  too  sensitive;  and  my 
reason  for  speaking  to  him  so  jocularly  this  evening,  was 
for  the  purpose  of  opening  the  way  for  his  doing  so :  he 


n  I.  o  o  SI   A  X  D   n  R I  e  r  .  77 

understood  it,  and  will  speiik  to  me  now.  IIo  used  to  show 
me  the  letters  he  received  from  her;  and  though  there  was 
no  more  apparent  feeling  in  them  than  warm  friendship,  I 
could  see,  in  some  allusions  she  made  to  his,  that  there 
was  a  little  sly  love-making  in  them  ;  and  then  he  always 
spoke  of  her  in  a  very  different  strain  from  that  in  which 
he  spoke  of  other  girls." 

The  two  young  performers  concluding  a  piece  at  this 
moment,  Henry  asked  if  they  played  a  new  song,  called  the 
"  Carrier  Dove." 

"  Oh,  yes!  it  is  one  of  our  favorite  songs." 
"  I  am  happy  to  be  so  highly  endorsed  ;  then,  as  Hamlet 
might  say  — play  on.'" 


CHAPTER   XL 

"For  just  experience  tells,  in  ev'ry  soil, 
That  those  who  think  must  govern  those  that  toil." 

Goldsmith. 

niHLS  sort  of  animated  and  desultory  intercourse,  such  as 
-L  we  have  described,  had  been  going  on  for  several  weeks 
between  the  Brandon  families  and  their  young  friends; 
and  Henry  had  learned  to  be  more  cautious  in  his  style  of 
conversation  before  his  aunt,  from  the  frequent  hints  to 
that  effect  from  both  Lucy  and  Laura,  and  was  getting 
along  with  her  rather  pleasantly;  although  he  was  now 
well  assured  that  she  was  suspicious  of  his  intentions,  and 
would  be  bitterly  opposed  to  any  alliance  between  him 
and  Laura,  on  the  score  of  their  relationship  —  a  not  un- 
common prejudice  in  most  families. 

The  two  daughters  of  Mr.  Brandon  had  just  concluded 
a  very  pleasant  visit  of  two  days  to  Violet,  which  it  may 
be  supposed  Henry  Brandon  had  enjoved  after  his  own 
1* 


78  BLOOM    AND    BKIER. 

fashion,  and,  with  his  sister,  had  accompanied  them  home. 
Henry  was  met  by  his  uncle  with  a  most  cordial  pleasure ; 
and  invited  by  him  to  come  the  next  morning  and  accom- 
pany him  to ,  where  he  had  an  appointment  with  Colonel 

Haywood ;  to  which  he  very  readily  consented,  promising 
to  be  over  early  next  morning.  They  remained  but  a  short 
time ;  and  while  riding  along  on  their  return,  the  conversa- 
tion turned  on  Laura,  when  Violet  said  : 

"  Brother,  I  think  cousin  Laura  certainly  the  sweetest 
girl  I  ever  saw.  I  love  her  more  and  more  every  time  I  see 
her;  and  I  don't  blame  you  for  loving  her  a  little,  Vihich  I 
know  you  do ;  but  then  I  would  advise  you  to  be  particu- 
lar, and  go  no  farther  with  it,  as  aunt  will  certainly  oppose 
you." 

"  Yes,  I  see  the  good  lady  has  her  eye  on  me ;  but  she 
need  have  no  feai-s.  I  do  admire  Laura  greatly,  and  always 
did  love  her  a  little,  as  you  say,  outside  cousin  bounds  ;  but 
aunt  need  not  make  herself  disagreeable  about  it  now,  any 
more  than  she  might  have  done  ten  years  ago,  as  she  really 
is  beginning  to  be  to  me ;  and  which  I  dislike  on  Laura's 
account:  were  it  not  for  her,  it  would  afford  me  some  pleas- 
ure just  now  to  hate  aunt  a  good  deal." 

"  Yes,  and  you  show  it  just  about  as  much  as  she  shows 
her  suspicion  —  and  the  girls  see  it;  and,  therefore,  I 
really  think  it  best  for  you  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
some  other  girls,  just  to  divert  her  attention  from  you. 
You  have  scarcely  visited  any  others  since  your  return." 

"Why,  have  you  forgotten  that  I  have  been  several 
times  to  call  on  Julia  Hunter  and  Miss  Sally  Morton?" 

"  But  then  they  were  mere  formal  calls." 

"Yes,  I  know  ;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  get  in  the  way  of 
this  young  Dr.  Wilton,  who  is  said  to  be  an  accepted  ad- 
mirer of  Julia's,  and  of  our  Eev.  pastor,  Mr.  Irwin,  Miss 
Sally's  beau." 

"  Oh  !  you  would  not  be  in  their  way.     I  do  not  mean 


BLOOM     AXD    BRIER.  79 

that  you  shall  go  there  in  an  old-fashioned  courting  way  ; 
but  as  an  easy,  friendly  visitor,  which  would  be  very  agree- 
able to  you,  as  there  are  few  girls  more  accomplished  than 
they  are,  and  no  family  more  pleasant  to  visit;  all  of  which 
you  know.  It  would,  too,  divert  aunt's  attention  from  your 
visits  to  Laura,  the  exclusiveness  of  which  evidently  annoys 
her." 

"  That  is  very  sensible  sort  of  advice,  and  I  must  pay 
some  attention  to  it,  my  most  sagacious  sister." 

"  Day  after  to-morrow,  uncle  Robert  and  Colonel  Haywood 
are  to  speak  at  Gregory's  Spring:  the  only  two  appoint- 
ments they  have    in  this  county  are  at ,  to-morrow, 

and  at  Gregory's  the  next  day.  At  Gregory's,  I  think, 
every  one  that  can,  will  be  present,  when  you  can  see  all 
the  finest  girls  of  this  portion  of  the  country ;  and  I  will 
suggest  that  we  all  go." 

"A  very  nice  trip,  and  we  must  get  it  up." 

Conversing  quietly  in  this  manner  upon  various  matters, 
their  ride  was  pleasantly  passed  off. 

The  morning  after  this,  Henry  Brandon  left  home  quite 
early,  designing  to  take  breakfast  at  his  uncle's,  and  to  go 

with  him  to  ,  according  to  the  appointment  of  the 

evening  before. 

The  uncle  and  nephew  left  the  residence  of  the  former 

in  time  to  reach at  ten  o'clock,  at  which  time  the 

speaking  was  to  commence. 

In  the  course  of  conversation,  while  riding  along,  Henry 
asked  who  this  Colonel  Haywood  was,  as  it  was  a  new 
name  to  him. 

"  Yes,  it  is;  he  has  not  resided  but  a  few  years  in  the 
State." 

"  Is  he  a  man  of  mind  ?  " 

"  He  is,  indeed,  a  man  of  genius,  education,  and  temper, 
and  a  complete  representative  of  the  extremest  ultraism 
of  the  South  Carolina  State-rights  doctrine." 


80  r,  LOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  I  should  judge  him  then  to  be  an  unpleasant  com- 
petitor in  debate." 

"  Yes,  he  is  not  as  agreeable  as  I  have  seen.  He  is  dis- 
posed, if  permitted,  to  be  imperious  in  his  manners,  and 
presumes  quite  as  much  on  the  timidity  of  his  opponent, 
as  he  does  on  his  own  courage.  He  is  insinuating  in  his 
innuendoes,  bold  in  his  assertions,  plausible  in  his  argu- 
ments, quick  to  take  advantage  of  the  weak  points  of  his 
adversary,  very  fluent,  at  least  can  command  in  a  moment 
every  word  that  he  knows  the  meaning  of,  and  at  times 
impassioned,  though  not  a  very  eloquent  speaker." 

"He  is  rather  a  dangerous  opponent,  I  should  take  it." 

"  Yes,  very  truly,  a  dangerous  opponent,  not  only  to  me, 
but,  in  his  daring  character,  will  some  day  prove  more  so 
to  the  country." 

"  I  shall  begin  to  believe  that  you  think  yourself  full 
matched,  uncle,"  said  Henry,  smiling. 

"  I  know  I  am.  Colonel  Haywood  is  a  full  match  for  any 
one  in  popular  debate,  though  not  a  statesman,  and  his 
fallacies  are  easily  detected.  But  he  has  that  faculty 
which  Mr.  Calhoun  possesses  most  eminently,  of  impressing 
his  audience  with  the  idea  that  he  is  particularly  their 
friend,  and  then  being  the  advocate  of  a  sort  of  mixed 
agrarianism  and  aggression,  he  carries  the  populace  even 
farther  than  his  p>artij  can  do  it.  His  manner,  however,  is 
very  different  from  Mr.  Calhoun's.  Mr.  Calhoun  is  really 
a  very  sincere  man,  and  infuses  the  sentiment  of  his  truth 
into  everything  he  says  —  always  calm,  generally  logical 
in  his  deductions,  whether  his  premises  be  correct  or  not, 
and  truly  believes  that  he  is  ever  battling  for  the  South, 
as  he  resists  her  hypothetical  wrongs.  Colonel  Haywood,  as 
I  have  said,  has  a  very  different  manner,  yet  comes  out 
pretty  much  at  the  same  point.  He  is  very  courageous, 
impassioned,  ambitious,  and  some  call  him  eloquent,  but 
he  is  not:  he  is  only  an  orator,  and  by  a  sort  of  electric 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  81 

influence,  which  passion  only  can  exert,  he  inflames  tho 
feelings  of  the  multitude  with  the  fire  of  his  own  heart. 
While  he  does  not  inspire  that  perfect  personal  confidence 
which  Mr.  Calhoun  does,  he  yet  moves  his  audience  pretty 
much  at  his  will." 

At  this  point  in  their  conversation   they  had  arrived 

in  sight  of  the  town  of ,  where  a  very  large  number 

of  citizens  from  that  part  of  the  country  had  already 
assembled. 

At  the  appointed  hour.  Colonel  Haywood  ascended  the 
stand,  and  delivered  one  of  his  best  efforts.  He  was  at  this 
time  a  practising  lawyer  of  high  reputation  in  the  State,  and 
master  of  all  the  arts  of  fiery  declamation,  and  considered 
one  of  the  very  finest  speakers  of  his  party.  About  forty 
years  old,  he  exactly  occupied  that  line  of  demarcation 
between  youth  and  age,  when  a  speaker  of  ability  comes 
before  an  audience  with  all  the  advantages  of  both,  being 
at  liberty  to  enter  the  fields  of  fact  and  of  close  argu- 
ment, supposed  to  be  the  peculiar  forte  of  experience  and 
cool  judgment,  and  not  only  excused,  but  encouraged,  by 
applause,  to  wander  off  in  the  brighter  realms  of  decla- 
mation and  daring  oratory.  This  advantage  Colonel  Hay- 
wood used  with  surprising  art  and  a  terrible  power.  On 
the  present  occasion  he  began  with  a  high-wrought  eulogy 
on  the  stern  virtue  and  Roman  integrity  of  the  masses! 
This  cajoling  of  the  thoughtless,  ignorant  multitude  into 
a  belief  of  its  great  excellence  and  superior  intelligence, 
had  from  early  times  been  steadily  growing  into  a  sys- 
tematic demagoguism  ;  and,  while  feeling  the  very  least  of 
it  himself,  he  used  it  with  wonderful  effect.  This  wretched 
flattery  had,  at  length,  become  almost  the  necessary  politi- 
cal sustenance  of  the  masses,  and  placed  them  perfectly  in 
the  power  of  the  ambitious  leaders,  who,  through  them, 
precipitated  the  South  on  her  ruin  in  1860  —  destroying 
almost  the  least  resemblance  to  a  republican  government. 


82  DLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

If  all  of  the  which  shall  have  the  effect  of  deterring  any 
and  all  other  peoples  from  endeavoring  to  establish  such 
a  political  absurdity  as  a  democratic  republic,  demago- 
guisra  will  still  be  entitled  to  the  thanks  of  the  world. 

On  this  occasion,  Colonel  Haywood  eulogized,  in  the 
very  highest  terms  of  laudation,  the  doctrine  of  State-sov- 
ereignty^ as  recognized  by  the  Constitution,  and  elaborated 
in  the  celebrated  resolutions  of  '98-'99.  He  then  apostro- 
phized the  shade  of  Jefferson,  as  the  first  and  chief  apostle 
of  those  sublime  truths,  and  as  the  author  of  that  almost 
inspired  scroll,  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  whose 
blazing  light  had  sent  a  knowledge  of  human  rights  into 
all  the  dark  despotisms  of  the  earth,  and  told  all  the  na- 
tions of  the  great  truth,  that  men  were  born  free  and  equal, 
and  endowed  by  nature  with  the  right  of  self-government. 

He  next  condemned  the  Tariff,  United  States  Bank, 
as  measures  growing  out  of  the  "monarchical.  Federal, 
Whig  party,"  of  which  Mr.  Clay  was  the  founder  and 
defender,  and  concluded  his  masterpiece  of  sophistry  and 
declamation  with  a  second  high -wrought  eulogy  o^  the 
masses,  ending  by  crying  out,  "Vox  populi,  vox  Dei." 

Colonel  Haywood  subsequently  acquired  a  leading  repu- 
tation in  the  South,  and  was,  indeed,  a  very  remarkable  man 
—  such  an  one  as  society  seldom  develops  or  nature  pro- 
duces —  and  to  the  day  of  his  death  retained  that  strange 
power  of  holding  his  friends  under  fire  long  after  all  hope 
was  lost,  and  still  held  the  confidence  of  his  party,  however 
unpopular  as  a  man,  to  the  very  end. 

When  the  darkest  hour  that  ever  threw  its  gloom  over 
the  civilization  of  a  people,  and  hung  as  a  funeral  pall 
over  the  high  mountains,  the  sweet  valleys,  the  broad 
plains,  and  lovely  homes  of  the  South,  and  when  the  "  bonny 
blue  flag  "  floated  over  the  battle-field  —  representative  of 
his  long-cherished  hope  —  he  fearlessly  sat  upon  the  wing 
of  the  storm  and  cheered  the  havoc  of  the  fray. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIKR.  83 

There  were  those  whose  souls  knew  no  mortal  fear  — 
wJiose  minds,  in  most  part,  were  equal  to  his  own— who 
foresaw  the  terrible  results  of  his  desperate  counsels  —  and 
yet  a  glance  from  his  fiery  eye,  and  a  menacing  gesture 
from  his  hand,  hushed  their  voices  as  with  the  stillness  of 
the  tomb. 

Wellnigh  at  his  bidding  alone,  a  handful  of  his  coun- 
trymen went  out  to  the  tented  field,  and  measured  arms 
with  the  hosts  of  the  tributary  world  ;  and  for  four  dreary, 
bloody  years,  with  a  valor  unequalled  for  its  chivalry  and' 
its  deeds,  not  only  held  that  host  at  defiant  bay,  but  swept 
the  best -appointed  armies  of  the  world  out  of  existence, 
and  tearing  the  laurels  from  the  brows  of  their  greatest 
captains,  dashed  them  to  the  earth  with  a  laughing,  but  a 
bitter  scorn. 

Such  was  Colonel  Haywood,  and  such  the  armies  he  en- 
rolled. We  know  their  fate.  The  future  will  do  them 
justice — the  present  cannot. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"Xo  opinions  so  fatally  mislead  us  as  those  not  totally  wrong,  as  no 
watches  so  effectually  deceive  us  as  those  that  are  sometimes  right." 

COLTON. 

CJO  soon  as  Colonel  Haywood  had  concluded  his  speech, 
>0  Mr.  Brandon  was  enthusiastically  called  for  by  his' 
friends,  and  ascended  the  stand  amid  their  deafening  ap- 
plauses. He  was  the  senior  of  Colonel  Haywood  by  a  few 
years,  but  far  more  distingue  in  his  person,  above  the  ordi- 
nary height,  easy  and  elegant  in  his  motion,  with  not  a 
particle  of  aflfectation  of  any  kind,  and  considered  one  of 
the  handsomest  men  of  his  day. 

Socially,  no  man  was  more  highly  regarded  by  all  classes, 


84  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

and  known  to  be,  too,  one  of  the  most  chaste,  classical,  and 
eloquent  speakers  in  the  State.  As  has  somewhere  been 
£aid  of  another,  he  "  wreathed  the  club  of  Hercules  with 
the  garlands  of  the  Muses,"  and  had,  on  these  accounts, 
been  selected  as  elector,  with  especial  reference  to  meeting 
Colonel  Haywood  in  the  canvass,  which  had  early  promised 
to  be  a  heated  and  a  bitter  one. 

The  speeches  of  Democratic  candidates,  up  to  the  very 
moment  of  the  dissolution  of  the  party  —  albeit,  as  a 
universal  fact  —  were  made  up  of  unmeaning  generalities, 
■which  had  gradually  become  incorporated  into  their  plat- 
forms,  and  which  its  orators  were  expected  to  reiterate  to 
the  ignorant  masses :  these,  together  with  such  eulogies  as 
we  have  already  mentioned  upon  the  superior  intelligence  of 
"  the  people'^  made  up  the  warp  and  woof  of  their  addresses. 

In  this  manner,  but  little  argument  was  necessary  in 
reply  to  them — as  argument  will  not  be  listened  to  by  the 
man  whose  immaculate  intelligence  may  be  disproven, 
when  the  endorsement  of  the  assertion  is  the  criterion  of 
its  truth,  and  the  sweetest  aliment  to  his  ignorance  and 
his  vanity. 

In  replying  to  Colonel  Haywood,  Mr.  Brandon  said,  when 
coming  to  speak  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  that  he  looked  upon 
him  neither  as  a  myth  nor  anything  sacred,  but  a  mere 
man,  mortal,  finite,  and  erring,  from  whom  nothing  more 
extraordinary  had  issued  than  his  errors  —  or,  at  best,  but 
the  ideas  of  a  strong  and  peculiar,  but  warped  mind,  which, 
even  in  its  great  ability,  had  committed  mistakes  of  the 
first  magnitude.  As  the  author  of  that  terrible  absurdity 
that  "all  men  are  born  free  and  equal,"  he  was  certainly, 
as  has  been  claimed  for  him,  the  founder  of  the  Demo- 
cratic party. 

That  the  prominent  idea  in  that  "burning  scroll,"  so 
magniloquently  alluded  to,  was  a  social,  moral,  and  intel- 
lectual heresy  of  the  first  water,  which,  from  indications 


BLOOM     AND    li  il  I  E  R  .  85 

already  given  out,  was  bound  to  result,  at  some  future 
time,  in  shedding  the  most  baleful  rays,  social  and  political. 
That  all  men  were  not  born  free  and  equal ;  and  the  absurd- 
ity of  the  assertion  was  too  manifest  to  justify  even  an 
attempt  at  refutation ;  and  for  the  utterance  of  this  sub- 
lime hallucination,  Mr.  Jefferson  did  not  merit  canon- 
ization. 

In  regard  to  the  Tariff,  he  said  it  was  more  of  a  Southern 
measure  than  a  Northern  one,  if  the  South  could  only  be 
induced  to  look  at  it  calmly,  with  the  fact  before  her  of  an 
unsurpassed  adaptability  for  manufacturing  to  advantage 
—  in  climate,  production,  and  water-power.  That  the 
South  was  comparatively  poor,  just  from  the  want  of  an 
internal  commerce.  That  negro  slavery  was  not  wealth  — 
rather  the  absorption  of  it ;  and  as  an  investment  of  cap- 
ital, was  bad,  because  of  its  producing  but  little  more  than 
its  own  support,  producing  nothing  new,  but  only  repro- 
ducing itself.  That  Yankee  moralists  had  found  it  out  at 
an  early  day  of  the  experiment,  and  had  long  ago  fobbed 
their  interest  in  the  wicked  traffic,  and  could  well  afford  to 
pray  for  emancipation.  "  When  slavery,"  said  he,  *'  in 
some  way  shall  become  modified,  and  loosed  in  its  grasp 
upon  our  purse-strings  —  as  the  philosophy  of  its  manifest 
introduction  teaches  us  it  will  be  when  the  original  causes 
for  it  shall  cease  —  then  the  South  will  cease  to  be  that 
'  purely  agricultural  country  '  so  foolishly  boasted  of,  and, 
entering  on  a  system  of  manufacturing  labor  in  connec- 
tion with  its  production,  become  the  leading  country  of  the 
earth." 

In  conclusion,  he  made  a  very  handsome  defence  of  Mr. 
Clay  and  the  Whig  party,  and  retired  amid  the  thundering 
cheers  of  his  friends. 

During  the  canvass  between  Mr.  Clay  and  Mr.  Polk, 
political  excitement  ran  very  high  in  the  South.  The  par- 
tisans of  either  appearing  to  identify  themselves  with  their 
8 


86  BLOOM    AND    ERIER. 

political  champion,  was  often  the  cause  of  much  violence. 
The  truth  was,  that  the  friends  of  Mr.  Clay  —  than  whom 
no  political  leader  in  this  country  was  ever  more  person- 
ally loved  —  had  become  exasperated  at  the  causeless  slan- 
ders of  him  by  Democratic  leaders,  and  were  ready  now 
to  make  his  cause  an  individual  one.  It  was  from  some 
reason  like  this,  that,  very  soon  after  the  speaking  was  over, 
a  difficulty  took  place,  of  a  most  tragic  character,  between 
an  old  man  and  his  son  on  the  Whig  side,  and  two  brothers 
on  the  other,  in  which  one  on  each  side,  immediately  killed, 
fell  a  sacrifice  to  their  parties,  and  each  of  the  others,  very 
severely  wounded. 

The  old  man  Miller  and  his  son  were  planters,  and  very 
respectable  citizens ;  but,  while  peaceable,  were  known  to 
be  quick-tempered  and  resolute.  Conceiving  insult,  from 
the  use  of  some  bantering  language  on  the  part  of  the  two 
Democrats,  they  at  once  made  an  attack  upon  them,  which 
resulted  in  one  of  the  most  sanguinary  rencontres  of  even 
that  day  of  bowie-knives  and  broils.  Young  Miller,  who 
was  one  of  those  who  escaped  with  his  life,  was  yet  badly 
w^ounded,  and  was  removed  to  an  hotel,  where  he  was  com- 
pelled to  remain  for  several  weeks  before  even  being  able 
to  appear  before  the  proper  officer  on  preliminary  trial. 
At  length  there  was  a  day  appointed  for  this  purpose,  and 
the  case  was  decided  to  be  a  bailable  one,  when  his  polit- 
ical as  well  as  personal  friends  united  in  making  a  bond 
for  his  appearance  at  the  next  court. 

After  his  recovery,  his  whole  character  seemed  to  un- 
dergo a  change  —  from  the  gay  and  frolicsome  young- 
planter,  he  became  the  most  perfect  outlaw,  and  seemed 
implacably  exasperated  against  the  Democratic  party. 

On  the  first  day  of  the  next  court,  he  appeared  within 
the  bar,  accompanied  by  his  bondsmen,  and  surrendered 
himself  formally  to  the  sheriff.  This  operated  as  a  release 
to  those  who  had  gone  security  for  his  presence  ;  but  after 


B  L  O  (3  >[    A  X  D    n  R  I  E  R  .  87 

sitting,  peemingly  with  indifference,  for  some  time,  he  care- 
lessly picked  up  his  hat,  and  walked  out,  apparently  with 
the  intention  of  returning  ;  but,  by  arrangement,  his  horse 
was  near  by,  and  mounting  him,  never  appeared  there 
again. 

Scenes  of  violence  had  been  of  such  common  occurrence 
up  to  about  this  period,  that  we  should  scarcely  have  taken 
occasion  to  give  the  details  w'e  have,  were  it  not  this  one 
afterward  became  slightly  complicated  with  the  fortunes 
of  our  young  friend,  Mr.  Henry  Brandon. 

It  was  near  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  before  the  ex- 
citement in  regard  to  the  difficulty  had  in  the  least  sub- 
sided, and  there  being  continually  recurring  probabilities 
of  fresh  difficulties  growing  out  of  the  Miller  aflliir,  Mr. 
Brandon  remained,  for  the  purpose  of  allaying  them,  which 
his  well-known  courage,  and  good  feeling,  and  good  sense, 
enabled  him  to  do  with  more  success,  probably,  than  any 
other  man  in  the  county.  The  political  features  of  the  dif- 
ficulty gradually  died  away,  as  the  time  approached  for 
men  to  leave  for  their  homes;  and  Mr.  Brandon,  seeing  that 
all  probability  of  further  troubles  had  passed  oflT,  began 
looking  around  for  his  nephew,  and'  also  for  Mr.  Camp- 
bell and  young  Hunter,  who  had  promised  to  return  with 
him.  The  two  last  were  soon  found,  but  Henry  was  no- 
where to  be  seen  —  when  it  occurred  to  Hunter  that  as  he 
was  an  old  boy-friend  of  young  Miller,  he  might  have 
gone  to  see  him.  Immediately  going  to  the  hotel,  he  there, 
indeed,  found  him  in  Miller's  room,  assisting  to  make  him 
comfortable. 

When  he  saw  Thomas  Hunter  enter  the  room,  he  imme- 
diately knew  the  purpose,  and  turning  to  Miller,  told  him 
that  he  would  have  to  leave  him,  but  would  return  in  a 
few  days  to  see  him. 

Miller  had  not  before  seen  young  Brandon  since  his 
return,  and   appeared  greatly  pleased  with  the  attention, 


88  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

and  begged  him  to  come  again  as  soon  and  as  often  as  he 
could. 

In  company  with  Hunter,  he  now  went  to  the  appointed 
place  of  meeting  with  Mr.  Brandon,  and  very  soon  after 
the  party  were  on  the  road  to  the  country. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

"Where  be  your  gibes  now?  your  gambols?  your  songs?  your  flashes 
of  merriment,  that  were  wont  to  set  the  table  on  a  roar?  " — Shakspeare. 

CONVERSING  over  the  various  incidents  of  the  day, 
as  they  rode  along,  the  time  passed  off  very  pleasantly 
until  they  reached  the  point  whereat  the  roads  divided  — 
one  going  to  Mr.  Robert  Brandon's,  the  other  to  Henry's 
own  home.  Here  they  seemed  to  come  to  an  involuntary 
halt,  when  Mr.  Brandon  said : 

"  Here  —  why  do  you  stop,  young  gentlemen  ?  I  believe 
you  are  all  under  contract  to  go  home  with  me  to-night, 
and  to  accompany  me  to-morrow  to  Gregory's  Spring." 

"  Yes,  uncle,  we  are  under  promise  to  go  with  you  to- 
morrow; but  my  understanding  of  it  was,"  said  Henry, 
laughing,  "  that  the  young  gentlemen  were  to  accompany 
me  home  to-night,  and  go  by  for  you  in  the  morning." 

"  I  think,  Henry,  they  are  my  guests,  as  they  certainly 
came  out  at  my  request." 

"  Yes,  that  was  so  ;  but  I  think  there  was  an  after  arrange- 
ment, to  the  effect  that  I  speak  of." 

"  Well,  I  will  leave  it  to  the  young  gentlemen  them- 
selves to  say,"  said  Mr.  Brandon,  who  saw  that  his  nephew 
was  jesting. 

"Oh,  no,"  he  replied,  breaking  out  in  a  laugh  ;  "but  I 


HLOO.M     AND     BKIKR.  89 

will  make  a  fair  division  of  spoils,  and  give  you  first  choice 
of  the  three  of  us." 

Although  Plenry  knew  his  own  selection  would  make 
Hunter  and  Campbell  feel  a  little  awkward  in  going  to  his 
mother's  without  him,  he  slyly  hoped  that  his  uncle  would 
choose  him.  But  Mr.  Brandon,  pleasantly  accepting  the 
compromise,  invited  young  Campbell.  They  now  sepa- 
rated, and  Henry  and  his  friend  rode  off  at  a  merry  pace, 
and  were  not  long  in  reaching  home.  On  getting  there, 
however,  he  was  a  little  surprised  at  finding  his  mother  and 
sister  absent ;  but  a  note  from  Violet  was  handed  to  him, 
saying,  that  "her  mother  and  herself  had  concluded  to 
make  a  visit  to  '  Starlight,'  in  the  morning  after  he  left,  and 
that  since  that  time  they  had  determined  on  remaining 
till  the  next  day  ;  that  he  must  come  over,  and  bring  ^Ir. 
Hunter,  if  he  was  with  him." 

Henry  then  asked  Hunter  to  his  room,  where  the  two 
young  gentlemen  readjusted  their  dress  for  that  evening, 
and  even  prepared  for  the  next  day,  at  the  expense  of  the 
former's  wardrobe. 

While  dressing  and  making  their  preparations,  Henry 
appeared  even  so  unusually  animated  and  happy,  that 
Hunter  was  induced  to  ask  him  the  cause  of  it. 

"  You  appear  very  uncommonly  delighted,  my  good  fel- 
low, with  the  prospect  of  getting  to  your  uncle's.  Shall  I 
pass  it  to  the  credit  of  that  excellent  gentleman  himself, 
to  your  equally  excellent  aunt,  to  the  beautiful  Lucy,  or, 
indeed,  to  the  sweet  face  of  our  lovely  cousin,  Laura? 
Come,  out  with  it,  Henry,  and  tell  me,  in  a  good  old-fash- 
ioned way,  the  especial  name  of  that  little  secret  emotion 
which  plays  with  such  pleasure  on  your  face,  and  imparts 
such  unusual  animation  ?  " 

"  Hunter,  you  astonish  me.  For  one  who  has  always 
prided  himself  on  his  power  to  read  the  heart  by  the  face, 
to  even  approach  such  a  misapprehension,  all  but  surpasses 
8* 


90  BLOOM    A  XD    BRIER. 

credulity.  Now,  sir,  if  you  had  only  a  tenth  part  of  th3 
keen  perception  which  you  claim,  you  would  discover  at  a 
glance  that  my  face  only  expressed  an  intellectual  emotion 
—  a  very  sharp  desire,  with  the  prospect  of  gratification, 
of  becoming  better  informed  of,  or  more  fully  initiated 
into,  the  mysteries  of  \yhiggery.  You  would  have  seen, 
also,  that  the  lovely  face  of  my  cousin  Laura  had  no  claim 
whatever  in  these  aforesaid  emotions.  You  can  believe 
me.  Hunter,  as  you  know  that  I  would  not  deceive  you," 
saying  this  with  a  manifest  jocularity. 

Hunter  replied,  "  No,  no,  never !  I  must  give  you 
credit  for  that,  both  in  the  past  and  in  the  present,  as  your 
jesting  words  of  denial,  your  manner,  emphasis,  look,  and 
emotion,  all  speak  for  themselves.  And  my  opinion  is, 
that  our  sweet  cousin,  Laura  Brandon,  has  touched  some 
deep  -  hidden,  delicate  chord  of  your  frolicsome  heart, 
which  no  other  damsel  has  ever  done  in  any  of  your  rol- 
licking flirtations.  Though  I  cannot  say  that  you  are  *  in 
love,'  yet  it  occurs  to  me  that  you  are  nigher  falling  into 
the  gossamer  web  of  the  *  rosy  god  '  than  ever  before." 

"  Hunter,  you  frighten  me,  man  —  yea,  you  agitate  me 
to  my  deepest  foundations — you  knock  the  devil's  conceit 
out  of  me.  I  have  never  thought  of  falling  '  in  love  '  since 
I  was  sixteen." 

"And  who  was  that  with,  but  Laura  Brandon?"  said 
Hunter,  interrupting  him. 

'*  I  have  only  thought  of  girls  falling  in  love  with  me," 
said  he,  not  appearing  to  hear  him  ;  "nor  am  I  willing  to 
acknowledge  anything  else  till  yet.  Though  I  am  really 
afraid  for  you  to  make  any  of  your  d — d  prophecies,  for 
you  know  I  always  looked  upon  you  as  half  wizard, 
guilty  of  holding  communion  with  evil  spirits  ;  "  and  then 
adding,  "  Tom,  do  you  talk  in  your  sleep  as  much  as 
ever  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  expect  so,  as  I  never  did  it :  that  was  a  scandal 


B  L  O  O  M    A  N  D     R  R  r  E  R  .  91 

of  your  own.  I  sleep  very  silently  and  innocently,  as  I 
always  did." 

"Pity  your  innocence  did  not  come  sooner,  before  crack- 
ing that  fellow's  skull ;  you  might  have  remained  at  collefj;e 
a  few  months  longer.  A  fig  for  your  innocence !  Tom, 
have  you  never  been  mad  with  yourself  for  that  thought- 
less difficulty  ?  " 

"Yes,  a  thousand  times;  but  innocent  or  not,  I  was 
never  in  half  the  difficulties  that  you  were  —  no,  not  a 
tenth." 

"Oh,  me  —  difficulties!  I  was  born  to  difficulties,  and 
I  expect  to  die  in  one.  They  come  naturally,  not  even 
involving  the  question  of  guilt  or  innocence.  They  are 
my  natural  element,  as  Miss  Gibbons  said  to  me  the  last 
time  I  called  upon  her,  while  speaking  of  her  poetical 
tastes  and  feelings,  and  reciting  a  very  touching  effusion 
of  her  own." 

Both  breaking  out  in  a  laugh  at  this.  Hunter  asked  him 
how  he  deported  himself  during  the  recital. 

"  I  grasped  the  back  of  the  sofa  convulsively,  and  most 
rigidly  clenched  my  teeth,  while  I  rolled  my  eyes  up  like 
an  ox  in  the  agonies  of  death,  and  ever  and  anon  grunted 
out,  'Charming.^     What  the  devil  else  could  I  do?" 

"  What  has  become  of  her  ?  "  asked  Hunter,  when  suffi- 
ciently recovered  from  his  convulsive  laughter. 

"  She  is  there  yet,  I  suppose,  waiting  to  marry  Potter, 
that  Congregational  beneficiary  who  was  in  our  class,  and 
will  do  so,  as  soon  as  he  receives  the  preliminaries  of  ordi- 
nation, and  procures  some  village  pulpit  from  which  to 
fumigate  the  gospel.  You  know  these  fellows  do  not  have 
any  trouble  in  regard  to  the  sanctity  of  the  priesthood. 
All  they  require  is  some  sort  of  plebiscit  to  preach,  which 
they  get  after  learning  something  of  the  Synod  of  Dort, 
Martin  Luther,  Calvin,  and  old  John  Knox,  predestination 
and  election,  hell-fire,  etc." 


92  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

**  You  are  disposed  to  be  severe  on  our  old  Yankee 
friends." 

"  No,  you  know  what  I  say  is  the  truth." 

"  But  you  have  not  told  rae  all  about  Miss  Gibbons." 

"Oh,  no.  Well,  I  called  upon  her,  just  out  of  a  sort  of 
old  habit,  the  day  before  I  left,  as  I  told  you,  when  this 
affair  of  the  poetry  took  place.  I  had  often  heard  that 
she  was  engaged  to  Potter,  and  therefore  thought  it  would 
be  safe  to  make  a  little  harmless  love  to  her,  particularly 
as  she  would  always  remember  it  as  quite  a  distinguished 
honor  to  have  been  made  love  to  by  a  young  Southerner. 
So  I  began  by  very  seriously  alluding  to  the  many  hap])y 
hours  I  had  spent  in  her  society,  and  the  regret  which  my 
departure  would  occasion  me.  After  a  few  other  silly 
remarks  of  this  sort,  I  thought  I  would  go  a  little  farther, 
and  added,  that  having  heard  of  her  engagement  with 
^Ir.  Potter,  I  should  leave  with  less  regret,  however,  than 
I  otherwise  should ;  and  a  good  deal  more  of  such  stuff; 
when,  without  my  in  the  least  looking  for  such  a  scene, 
she  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  face,  and  extended  me  her 
hand ! " 

"What?" 

"  Extended  me  her  hand !  " 

"  The  old  scratch !  What  did  you  do  then,  my  gay 
Lothario  ?     Ha !  ha ! !  ha ! ! !     Tell  me,  or  I  die." 

"  Well,  I  took  it,  placed  it  to  my  lips  very  gently,  but 
slightly  bit  her  finger." 

"AVhat?" 

"  Bit  her  finger  very  gently." 

Hunter  crying  out,  "  Oh,  heavens !  "  both  roared  out  in 
laughter,  and  Henry  Brandon  continued : 

"  What  in  the  name  of  common  sense  was  I  to  do?  The 
thing  was  becoming  too  tender." 

"  Pshaw,  boy !     Tell  me  what  you  really  did  do." 

"  Well,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  kissed  her  extended  hand, 


B  L  O  (^  >r    A  N  D    R  R  r  E  n .  93 

and  heaving  a  deep-drawn  sigh,  just  suffieiently  audible 
for  her  to  hear,  left  the  house  v/hile  the  scene  was  at  its 
culmination — but  precipitately,  I  assure  you  —  for  I  found 
that  she  was  not  all  clay  in  Potter's  hands,  and  having  no 
need  of  such  myself,  thought  it  best  to  escape  in  the  dust 
of  our  grief '^ 

At  this  there  was  another  peal  of  laughter.  Brandon 
then  again  added  : 

*'This  scene  happened,  Tom,  just  as  I  have  told  it,  and 
you  know  I  do  not  tell  it  in  any  vanihj,  but  as  a  good  joke, 
and  a  good  illustration  of  the  sort  of  estimation  in  which 
Southern  young  men  are  held  by  Northern  girls.  Seven 
in  ten  of  them  would  turn  off  a  good,  clever  Yankee  for 
an  indifferent  Southerner,  and  I  am  almost  at  a  loss  to 
account  for  it.  There  is  Potter,  for  instance,  who  in  a  few 
months  will  obtain  'orders'  to  preach.  Some  village  will 
call  him,  and,  of  course,  he  will  accept.  Some  few  me- 
chanics, laborers,  servant -girls,  or  helps,  with  a  small 
sprinkling  of  those  who  call  themselves  the  better  classes, 
will  be  his  congregation.  For  his  salary  he  will  get  a  pit- 
tance of  money,  some  contributions  of  apples,  potatoes, 
with  now  and  then  a  cutlet  of  veal,  a  few  butternuts,  and 
an  occasional  present  of  maple  sugar.  In  addition  to  this, 
he  may  get  charge  of  the  village  free-school,  and  be  chosen 
president  of  the  Female  Beneficent  Society,  or  of  an  Aboli- 
tion Society.  Altogether,  he  will  pick  up  a  very  good  sort 
of  living,  and  become  a  man  of  some  note  among  his  par- 
ticular class  of  people.  Now  all  of  this  brilliant  prospect 
she  was  willing  to  throw  away,  just  to  get  a  Southerner, 
of  whom  she  knew  nothing,  and  who,  it  is  quite  probable, 
will  never  reach  such  heights  in  his  own  country." 

They  were  now  ready  to  ride,  and  going  out  to  the 
gate,  found  "  Sara  Brandon  "  holding  their  horses,  and  one 
for  himself,  saying  : 

"  Mass  Henry,  I  could'n  bar  the  thoughts  of  seein'  you 


94  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

go  by  you'seif  in  the  night  so.  You  might  want  some 
'sistance  ;  so  I  cotch  a  hoss  for  myself." 

"  All  right,  Sam  ;  I  am  obliged  to  you."  Mounting, 
they  rode  off  rapidly. 

Hunter  continued  the  conversation,  by  saying,  "Yes, 
you  are  right,  Henry,  in  your  ideas  of  Northern  character, 
and  there  is  some  deep-laid  ethnological  reason  for  it. 
Women  are  all  creatures  of  emotion,  and  have  much  higher 
instincts  than  men.  The  latter  protects  them,  to  some  ex- 
tent, against  the  influences  of  the  former.  In  most  all 
instances,  these  attributes  give  them  a  keen  insight  into 
the  leading  points  of  character  of  the  opposite  sex,  and 
Northern  women  discover  in  the  character  of  the  South- 
erner something  that  better  pleases  them  than  in  their  own 
men." 

"  Hunter,  your  remarks  broach  a  doctrine  which  I  was 
laughed  at,  just  before  leaving  college,  for  advancing  — 
a  difference  of  race  between  the  Northern  and  Southern 
people.  The  Yanks  can't  bear  it ;  but  the  differences  so 
often  spoken  of  are  not  accidental,  but  fundamental — • 
organic." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Hunter,  interrupting  him,  "  the  sub- 
ject of  Yankee  idiosyncrasies  is  not  a  fit  one  for  young 
Southerners  on  a  night  ride  to  see  their  sweethearts." 

"  Well,  no  ;  perhaps  you  are  right ;  but  I  object  to  your 
classification,  Tom.  You  can  keep  it  for  yourself,  if  you 
wish." 

The  suddenness  of  this  sort  of  retort,  or  correction  rather, 
confused  Hunter,  who  replied  : 

"  Well,  Henry,  just  as  you  please ;  but,  my  dear  fellow, 
I  very  unwarily  gave  you  that  advantage ;  but  my  idea 
was  to  please  you,  and  you  should  have  been  more  generous 
than  to  have  used  it  so  unkindly,  as  to  drive  me  either 
into  a  confession  or  a  denial." 

"  Ah,  as  you  appeal  to  my  generosity,  I  will  excuse  you 


BLOOM     AND    BRIER.  95 

from  a  reply,  but  will  reserve  the  right  to  construe  your 
silence  into  a  confession  of  the  general  truth." 

"  Your  generosity  takes  a  very  singular  direction,  and 
forces  me  into  a  dilemma.  I  had  better  get  the  credit  of 
an  open  avowal  at  once." 

"  So  be  it,  and  let  me  play  Father-Confessor.  Now,  my 
erring,  mortal  son,  I  hear  there  be  three  maideas  fair,  not 
many  miles  away,  one  of  whom  you  have  impliedly  asserted 
to  be  my  lady-love,  and  there  be  two  others  yet,  who  rejoice 
in  the  pretty  names  of  Lucy  and  Violet ;  now  choose  ye, 
before  which  of  these  fiiir  damsels  ye  shall  bow  in  your 
devotions." 

"  As  thou  dost  give  me  choice,  most  Holy  Father,  I  will 
select  the  lady  Violet." 

"  So  be  it,  then,  thou  unhappy  son  of  man,  and  victim  of  a 
maiden's  toils  :  yet  thou  hast  my  blessing." 

The  dashing  eccentricity  which  Henry  Brandon  had 
thus  given  to  the  conversation,  at  once  relieved  Hunter  of 
an  embarrassment  which,  he  said,  had  "been  wTighino- 
upon  him  for  several  weeks,"  and  in  the  next  moment  he 
spoke  to  Brandon,  in  modest  terms,  of  the  long-felt  prefer- 
ence for  his  sister,  and  said  he  hoped  it  would  not  be  un- 
pleasing  to  him. 

Henry  replied,  "That  he  so  well  knew  his  feelings  to- 
wards him,  that  it  was  unnecessary  to  assure  him  of  his 
approbation."  Then,  laughing,  asked  his  pardon  for  forcing 
him  into  a  confession  of  attachment  for  his  own  sister. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  Henry,  for  doing  so,  as  I  knew 
that  you  had  been  told  of  it,  and  I  was  only  waiting  to 
overcome  my  bashfulness  sufficiently  to  speak  to  you  re- 
specting it." 

"'All 'swell  that  ends  well,'  you  know,  is  one  of  my 
favorite  old  maxims  ;  so  for  the  present  let's  ride  faster  — 
ride  to  our  ladies'  bowers  on  the  wings  of  love,"  and  gave 
his  horse  the  rein. 


96  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  I  tliaiik  tliee,  most  Reverent  Father." 

"Agreed  as  to  that ;  but  now  answer  the  question  I  first 
put  to  you  —  Is  the  anxiety  to 'meet  with  your  cousin  or 
your  sweetheart  ?  " 

Young  Brandon,  laughing,  as  if  the  subject  were  not  a 
disagreeable  one  to  him,  said  : 

"  *  Still  harping  on  my  daughter/  Well,  Hunter,  I  will 
tell  you  all  I  know%  and  leave  you  to  decide  on  it.  To  be- 
gin at  the  beginning,  you  remember  the  ludicrous  meeting 
in  the  grove  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course." 

"  Well,  when  I  first  met  her,  I  cannot  say  that  I  was 
'  in  love'  with  her,  though  we  were  acknowledged  sweet- 
hearts when  we  were  young,  and  you  know  we  corresponded 
quite  regularly  while  I  was  at  college." 

"Yes." 

"  In  my  letters,  I  frequently  alluded  to  the  fact  of  a  cer- 
tain promise  she  was  under  to  me,  to  which  she  always 
assented ;  but  I  had  been  away  from  her  four  years,  and 
cannot  be  supposed  to  have  been  very  deeply  enamored 
when  I  returned,  and  when  I  knelt  before  her,  it  was  as 
pure  a  piece  of  impromptu  extravagance  as  ever  entered  an 
idle  head  to  perpetrate.  But  while  going  on  with  the  non- 
sense, I  saw  the  same  little  gold  ring  on  her  finger  that  I 
had  placed  there  the  last  time  we  met ;  straightway  the 
ardent  love  of  boyhood  came  back  upon  me,  I  do  believe, 
and  when  I  rose,  I  could  not  resist  the  inclination  to  kiss 
her  pretty,  pouting,  laughing  lips ;  and  I  should  have  done 
it,  if  every  uncle  and  watching  aunt,  from  Noah's  time  till 
now,  had  been  present.  When  I  placed  my  arm  around 
her  neck,  she  gave  such  a  look  of  innocent  surprise  out  of 
her  soft  blue  eyes,  that  I  had  to  stop  for  a  moment  to  gaze 
into  the  mystic  depths  of  their  almost  angelic  beauty.  And 
now,  may  my  dear  aunt  forgive  me,  but  I  really  believe 
myself  hopelessly  in  love  with  her  daughter,  and  to-night 


BLOOM    A  XD    BRIER.  97 

I  intend  to  call  her  sweetheart,  out  and  out,  even  if  it  brings 
upon  me  the  bitter  hate  of  my  most  affectionate  relative, 
Mrs.  R.  Brandon,  which  ^  believe  it  will  do." 

They  had  now  reached  the  gate  of  "  Starlight,"  where 
a  servant  stood  waiting  to  take  charge  of  their  horses,  and 
still  another  to  take  them  to  a  private  room,  to  prepare, 
before  entering  the  drawing-room.  They  were  then  in- 
formed that  other  visitors  were  there  for  the  evening. 


CHAPTER   Xiy. 

"  She  was  a  form  of  life  and  light, 
That,  seen,  became  apart  of  sight." 

AFTER  Henry  had  left  in  the  morning,  Violet  pro- 
posed to  her  mother  to  go  over  and  spend  the  day  at 
"  Starlight,"  which,  after  a  little  persuasion,  was  consented 
to,  Mrs.  Brandon  having  no  idea  that  her  daughter  had 
any  ulterior  purpose  in  view,  further  than  the  pleasure  of 
Laura's  and  Lucy's  company  for  the  day. 

The  family  at  "  Starlight  "  were  delighted  at  seeing  the 
carriage  drive  up,  and  met  Violet  and  her  mother  with 
that  usual  pleasure  which  the  presence  of  either  family 
ever  gave  the  other. 

It  was  not  a  great  while  before  the  two  elderly  ladies 
were  left  alone  by  their  daughters,  who,  by  some  under- 
stood sign  from  Violet,  withdrew  to  another  room,  where 
their  whole  plan  w'as  discussed  and  determined  upon,  which 
was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  an  extemporized  dancing 
party  that  evening,  made  up  of  such  of  their  young  friends 
in  the  neighborhood  as  could  be  notified  in  time.  So  far 
as  they  were  concerned,  the  whole  enterprise  was  very  soon 
matured ;  and  the  only  thing  left  to  be  done,  was  getting 
9 


98  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

the  consent  of  their  mothers,  which  they  now  left  the  scene 
of  their  conclave  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining.  The  re- 
quest was  granted  without  hesitation,  further  than  by 
Violet's  mother  asking,  if  that  had  been  her  purpose  in 
M'ishing  to  visit  her  cousins  that  morning  ?  Violet  laugh- 
ingly admitted  that  it  was,  and  would  have  told  her  of  it ; 
but  fearing  it  possible,  at  least,  that  it  might  not  be  thought 
practicable,  concluded  it  was  as  well  to  say  nothing  of  it. 

Mrs.  Brandon  laughed  at  the  cunning ;  but  told  her  she 
must  write  to  her  brother,  so  that  he  would  know  the  cause 
of  their  absence. 

"  Oh,  certainly  ;  we  could  have  no  party  without  brother, 
Thomas  Hunter,  and  Mr.  Campbell ;  both  of  the  latter,  I 
am  satisfied,  will  come  home  with  either  brother  or  uncle." 

It  was  then  decided  to  whom  each  one  of  the  girls  was 
to  write.  Laura,  by  general  consent,  being  considered  the 
favorite  of  Mr.  Parson  Jerome,  was  to  write  to  him,  and 
to  invite  Dr.  Wilton  also,  a  young  physician  who  lived 
with  him  and  practised  medicine  from  his  house ;  while 
Lucy  was  to  write  to  Miss  Julia  Hunter,  and  Miss  Sally 
Morton ;  the  latter  being  an  orphan  relation  of  Judge 
Hunter,  and  a  member  of  his  family. 

As  we  have  grouped  all  of  our  young  friends  without 
previous  introduction,  it  may  be  expected,  perhaps,  that  we 
shall  say  something  of  them  seriatim.  Henry  Brandon, 
Thomas  Hunter,  and  Mr.  Campbell,  we  have  already  had 
before  us.  Mr.  Jerome,  the  young  parson  who  had  recently 
been  called  to  the  charge  of  the  parish,  was  a  gentleman 
who  had  grown  up  in  the  neighborhood ;  and  was  at  this 
time  living  on  the  plantation  which  he  had  inherited  from 
parents,  who  were  long  since  dead,  about  five  miles  distant 
from  Mr.  Brandon's.  Dr.  Wilton  was  his  very  early  college 
friend,  before  he  had  united  himself  to  the  Church  ;  and 
while  playing  the  role,  in  common  parlance,  of  a  "  very  wild 
After  the  return  of  Mr.  Jerome  to  the  old 


B  L  O  ()  M     A  N  D     li  li  I  E  R  .  99 

paternal  estate,  he  had  been  invited  by  him  to  make  his 
house  his  home,  it  being  an  excellent  point  from  which  to 
practise  his  profession. 

Miss  Julia  Hunter  was  the  sister  of  Thomas  Hunter, 
and  the  daughter  of  Judge  Hunter,  a  very  accomplished 
gentleman  and  wealthy  planter,  who  resided  but  a  few 
miles  away.  Miss  Hunter  was  a  pretty  sensible  girl,  about 
nineteen,  and  quite  well-known  to  be  admired  by  Dr  Wil- 
ton, who,  however,  had  never  visited  her  at  her  father's 
house,  having  only  met  her,  up  to  this  time,  at  church,  or 
at  one  or  the  other  of  the  Brandon  families.  And  now  last, 
but  not  the  least  of  this  little  circle  of  young  friends,  let 
me  say  a  few  words  of  Sally  Morton,  for  she  was  a  friend 
of  ours,  in  that  long-gone  day  which  we  call  our  youth ; 
and  gallantry  forbids  that  we  should  pass  her  over  without 
more  than  a  mere  cold,  passing  introduction  to  our  readers. 

Surrounded  even  by  the  pleasantest  circumstances,  age 
hath  but  little  to  cheer  it  in  its  twilight  walk,  outside  the 
recollection  of  its  early  friends  and  its  early  joys.  Nature, 
however,  seems  kindly  to  rekindle  these  morning  memories, 
as  the  casualties  of  time  add  to  our  sorrows.  And  now,  as 
we  stand  amid  the  wrecks  of  fortune,  and  well-nigh  upon 
the  grave  of  hope,  surrounded,  too,  by  the  most  wretched 
revolutionary  and  anarchical  elements,  we  live  over  again 
with  a  sweeter  zest,  the  bright  and  happy  scenes  of  our 
better  days. 

But  humanity  will  still  be  frail  humanity ;  and  as  we 
turn  back  to  the  loveliness,  prosperity,  peace,  order,  and 
joyfulness  that  once  did  mark  our  Southern  homes,  and 
then  turn  forward  to  the  bruised  poverty,  dilapidation, 
haggardness,  and  the  almost  universal  woe  of  the  present 
hour,  we  curse,  in  all  the  bitterness  of  a  human  heart,  and 
with  an  unseen  force  and  fire,  that  no  earthly  power  can 
yet  avert  or  quench,  the  rude  hands  that  wrought  this 
misery.     Ay ! 


100  BLOOM  a:st>  brier. 

*' .  .  .  Time  sets  all  things  even  ; 
And  if  we  do  but  watch  the  hour, 
There  never  yet  was  human  power, 
Which  could  evade,  if  unforgiven, 
The  patient  search  and  vigil  long 
Of  him  who  treasures  up  a  wrong." 

But  never  mind.  There'll  be  an  arbitrament  of  our 
wrongs  before  the  century  expires,  when,  perhaps, the  odds 
will  not  be  so  great  as  now. 

We  had  just  begun  to  speak  of  our  old  friend  Sally- 
Morton,  we  believe  ;  yes,  we  had  —  well,  Sally  at  this  time 
was  about  twenty-two  years  old,  we  remember  it  well,  for 
we  had  long  been  no  ordinary  friends,  Sally  and  I ;  and 
even  now,  upon  the  dull  ear  of  age,  as  in  the  wild  glad- 
someness  of  youth,  her  joyous  laugh  still  rings  so  sweetly 
and  so  merrily ;  and  verily  too,  doth  startle  some  slumber- 
ing feeling  well-nigh  forgot,  but  still  mayhap  too  tender  to 
be  told.  But  of  these  we  will  not  speak  again  —  they  were 
long,  too  long  ago,  before  the  silver-grey  had  thatched  these 
brown  old  locks. 

Sally,  we  say,  was  about  twenty-two,  and  a  very  remark- 
able combination  of  intellect  and  beauty.  She  was  rather 
more  than  medium  in  height,  delicately  formed,  but  well- 
developed  ;  her  features  were  exquisitely  moulded,  and  the 
dimples  that  rested  on  her  blooming  cheek,  with  the  defiant 
but  coquettish  smile  that  ever  played  in  wanton  beauty 
about  her  mouth,  told  of  the  bright  and  festive  spirit  that 
ever  revelled  in  its  own  mirth  and  wit,  and  which  no  early 
sorrows  long  could  cloud. 

She  was  an  orphan,  and  the  only  daughter  of  a  gentle- 
man of  fine  estate,  whose  embarrassed  condition,  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  had  left  her  not  penniless,  but  without  fortune. 

Such  was  Sally  Morton,  and  such  the  young  friends, 
whose  youthful  story  we  have  undertaken  partially  to  re- 
late ;  and  to  give  a  clearer  insight  into  their  style  of  social 


BLOOM     AND     IJKIKIJ.  lOl 

intercourse  with  each  other,  and  their  intimacy,  we  take 
the  liberty  of  transcribing  the  notes  of  invitation  sent  out 
for  tlieir  extemporized  dancing  party: 

"Starlight,  Oct.  10,  18—. 
"Dear  Julia  —  Every  arrangement  has  been  made  for 
the  a.<surance  of  a  very  happy  time  to-night  at  'Starlight,' 
in  the  programme  whereof,  your  name  stands  conspicuous. 
Although  these  arrangements  are  extremely  impromptu,  they 
yet  admit  no  refusal  to  shine,  on  the  part  of  objects  coming 
within  their  disc;  on  your  part  particularly  is  this  thought 
to  be  the  case,  as  tliere  would  be  no  enjoyment  without  it. 
This  much,  by  way  of  preliminary,  which  I  will  follow  up 
by  a  greater  elaboration  of  details.     Violet  and  aunt  are 
with  us,  and  will  remain  till  morning.     Father  will  be  at 
home,  and  somehow  we  have  learned  or  think  that  Mr. 
Campbell  will  accompany  him  —  and  look  upon  the  infor- 
mation or  thought,  as  reliable.     Your  brother  Thomas,  and 
our  meteoric  cousin,  Henry  Brandon,  have  been  commanded 
to  be  present  by  those  who  are  thought  to  possess  great  in- 
fluence in  that  direction;  and  as  a  matter  of  course,  will 
recognize  the  obligation  of  obedience.    Laura  too,  is  widen- 
ing the  range  of  these  extemporized  hospitalities ;  and  at 
this  very  instant  is  deeply  engaged  at  my  side,  in  the  pre- 
paration of  a  correspondence  for  the  parsonage,  mandatory 
to  the  recluses  thereof,  to  emerge  from  their  seclusion  and 
fjhostly  meditations,  and  to  report  to  us  at  *  Starlight '  this 
evening.     With  the  very  benevolent  view  that  yourself  and 
Miss  Sally  shall  not  be  each  without  a  revolving  satellite ; 
rumor  having   already  assigned  the   orbits   of  these  two 
modest  pseudo-anchorites,  no  farther  designation  is  required 
even  to  prevent  collision.     Now,  was  there  ever  anything  to 
exceed  the  true  beauty  and  artistic  skill  of  this  diagram, 
for  a  fantastic  evening?  perfect  in  all  its  diplomatic  and 
social  aspects! 

"Say  to  Miss  Sally,  that  she  will  doubtless  be  called  on 
to  play  a  double  part  in  the  proposed  enjoyments,  and  must 
prepare  herself,  Ajax-like,  (1  hope  I  commit  no  classical 
solecism,)  to  excel  herself  Our  cousin  Henry,  already 
delighted  with  her,  will  be  greatly  attracted  by  her  wit; 
and  ^ye  wish  her  to  rise  in  the  very  highest  flight,  and 
sweeping  down  upon  him,  deplete  him,  of  a  part  at  least,  of 
9* 


102  BLOOM    AND    BKIER. 

his  college  conceit,  of  ■which  he  has  far  more  than  his 
honest  share ;  and  is  quite  disposed  to  put  on  airs  to  every- 
thing that  labors  under  the  disability  of  wearing  petticoats : 
indeed,  even  goes  so  far  as  to  use  the  word  namby-pamhtj,  in 
connection  thereof.  Now,  of  this  *vain  delusion,'  we  be- 
lieve it  in  the  power  of  Miss  Sally  to  disenchant  him.  The 
other,  of  the  double  part  to  which  I  have  alluded,  is  that 
of  playing  j^rioress  to  the  prior  —  in  that,  however,  she  al- 
ready has  had  some  experience. 

"Now  all  of  these  details  of  arrangement,  dear  Julia, 
are  subject  to  emendation  by  the  circumstances  of  the  even- 
ing ;  and  it  may  even  be  so,  that  this  eccentric  cousin  may 
wander  off  into  your  periphery,  provided  anything  shall 
check  him  in  his  bold  and  open  love-making  to  Laura ;  de- 
fiant as  he  is  of  the  presence  of  father,  mother,  or  any  one, 
will  look  upon  me,  I  believe,  as  his  Fidus  Achates,  in  the 
enterprise  of  winning  her  heart,  which,  indeed,  I  believe  he 
has  more  than  half  accomplished.  I  laugh  and  tell  her 
that  she  is  inveigling  her  rollicking  cousin  into  the  meshes 
of  her  heart.  She  laughs  too,  and  merely  says  he  is  her  brag 
cousin  for  genius,  craziness,  and  impudence. 

"He  w^as  here  yesterday,  and  I  heard  him^ay  he  intended 
very  soon  to  enlarge  the  radius  of  his  social  enjoyments,  and 
threatened  to  tread  down  the  fiowers  between  '  Buck-horns ' 
and  '  Oak  Hill.'  It  will,  therefore,  be  an  excellent  idea  to 
meet  him  this  evening  on  an  open  field,  where  you  can,  by 
observation  rather  than  contact,  break  the  spell  of  conster- 
nation —  as  I  am  very  sure  that,  otherwise,  his  flights  will 
frighten  you.  But  I  must  stop  writing,  as  I  am  consuming 
time  which  the  messenger  should  be  using,  in  flying  to 
*  Oak  Hill.'  But,  '  bless  me  I '  my  dear  Julia,  I  had  for- 
gotten to  tell  you  that  it  was  a  dance  we  had  extemporized. 
Now,  I  know  you  will  come.       Your  friend,       Lucy  B. 

"P.  S.  It  is  said  that  the  point  of  a  woman's  letter  is  to 
be  found  in  the  postscript ;  nor  shall  I  urge  this  to  be  an 
exception,  but  leave  the  question  to  be  judged  of  by  your- 
self, or  whomsoever  it  may  concern.  Whether  it  be  the 
point  or  not,  my  postscript  purpose  is  to  ask  you  to  bring 
your  brother  Robert  with  you,  v\ho  I  learn  has  not  yet  con- 
sumed all  of  his  college  vacation.  Tell  him  it  is  my  own 
especial  invitation ;  and  though  no  particidar  provision  has 
been  made  for  him,  it  is  yet  not  too  late  to  say  that,  if  he 


BLOOM    AXD     BKIEK.  103 

will  accept  Lucy  Brandon  as  his  partner,  chaperone,  or 
what-not,  she  hereby  covenants  not  even  to  look  at  any 
other  young  gentleman  during  the  evening  —  if  he  demands 
it.  Yours,  L.  B." 

As  Lucy  had  said  to  her  friend,  Julia  Hunter,  Laura,  at 
the  same  time,  was  busily  preparing  a  letter  to  be  sent  to 
the  parsonage,  which  she  had  now  concluded,  and  ran  as 
follows : 

"Starlight,  10th  October. 

"  Honored  Parson  :  A  goodly  number  of  your  parishion- 
ers, having  met  at  our  house  this  morning,  and  not  wishing, 
under  all  the  circumstances,  to  be  deprived  of  your  presence 
until  the  next  Sunday,  through  me  send  greeting  this  epUtle 
—  and,  though  not  such  as  you  are  more  particularly  famil- 
iar with,  we  yet  hope  that  its  tidings  will  bring  a  thrill  of 
earthly  joyance,  if  not  of  spirituality  —  the  particular  im- 
port whereof  is,  that  you  make  your  appearance  this  even- 
ing at  the  ingle-side  of '  Starlight '  by  seven  o'clock,  or  at  an 
earlier  hour  if  more  convenient  to  you,  as  some  matters  of 
moment  to  the  liistory  of  your  parish  will  certainly  be  agi- 
tated. 

"  We  have  just  heard  with  much  pleasure  of  your  return 
from  the  'General  Convention';  but,  during  your  absence 
of  several  weeks,  there  has  made  his  appearance  among  us 
a  long-absent  young  citizen,  whom  you  knew  in  his  youth, 
I  believe. .  The  said  young  gentleman,  according  to  common 
report,  was  ever  slightly  disposed  to  something  of  social  out- 
lawry;  but  has  returned  almost  confirmed  in  this  disposition, 
much  to  the  chagrin  of  all  his  staid  and  well-deporting  rela- 
tions, of  whom  I  am  one ;  so  much  so  is  this  the  truth,  that 
it  is  manifest  to  every  one  that  he  is  ready  for  any  desperate 
enterprise,  from  the  breaking  of  a  young  girl's  heart  up 
through  all  the  catalogue  of  such  wicked  deeds.  At  a  famUy 
meeting,  therefore,  between  Violet,  Lucy,  and  myself,'  it  has 
been  decided  to  hand  over  to  your  pastoral  care  this  pecu- 
liar case  of  deviation  from  the  solemn  dignity  of  his  ances- 
tors, with  the  request  that  even  this  night  you  come  and 
begin  your  vigils  of  him,  lest  delay  may  put  it  beyond  your 
power  to  effect  any  salutary  change.  Thus  far,  the  occasion 
for  your  presence  may  be  considered  professional ;  further, 
it  m^Y  be  personal  to  yourself. 


104  BLOOM     AND     BRIER. 

"  Wherefore  the  latter,  you  eagerly  ask  ;  —  the  answer, 
though  rather  more  than  monosyllabic,  is  yet  not  quite  poly- 
syllabic — Sally  Sumpter  (did  you  discover  ray  effort  at 
wit?)  will  be  with  us  this  evening.  So,  for  this  reason  and 
for  that,  we  think  it  advisable  that  you  come  —  yea,  that 
you  absolutely  do  come ;  and  I,  as  your  best  lady  friend,  do 
demand  it  of  you.  Can  you  resist  that  logic  ?  I  think  that 
may  be  termed  argumentum  ad  hominem. 

•"  In  plain  w^ords,  Reverend  Sir,  our  cousin,  Henry  Bran- 
don, whom  you  may  remember  something  of  as  a  boy,  is  re- 
turned ;  he  will  be  with  us  this  evening,  and  we  wish  you 
to  see  him.  Violet,  Julia,  and  Miss  Sally,  Thomas  and 
Robert  Hunter,  and  Mr.  Campbell,  have  all  been  asked, 
and  w^e  of  course  expect  them.  Music  and  dancing  may  be 
expected:  I  need  scarcely  say,  that  you  will  not  require 
your  surplice. 

"  Every  word  of  this  letter,  in  its  spirit,  is  equally  with 
yourself  intended  for  Dr.  Wiltoji,  whose  presence  cannot  be 
dispensed  with  on  any  plea,  not  even  that  of  *  professional 
engagements,'  as  his  name  has  entered  largely  into  the  ar- 
rangements we  have  made  for  the  evening  entertainments, 
and  has  been  especially  set  apart  as  the  aopompaniment  to 
Miss  Hunter's.  Now  let  me  close  this  idle  style  of  writing, 
before  you  think  me  either  jesting  or  a  fit  subject  for  the 
asylum ;  assuring  you  that  I  am  neither,  but  as  ever, 

"  Your  friend,  Laura  Brandon. 

"P.  S.  I  had  not  forgotton  Mr.  Thaxton,  but  found  no 
suitable  place  in  my  letter  to  ask  after  his  health.  Say  to 
him  that  we  all  frequently  speak  of  him  ;  and  if  he  would 
come  over  with  you,  any  and  all  of  us  would  see  to  it,  that 
he  was  entertained  and  enjoyed  himself.  L.  B." 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  105 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  There  is  not  a  string  attuned  to  mirth, 
But  hath  its  chord  in  melancholy." 

DR.  WILTON  reached  home  from  a  professional  visit 
but  a  few  minutes  after  the  invitation  came. 

Mr.  Jerome  hearing  that  he  had  come,  called  him  and 
Mr.  Thaxton  to  the  sitting-room,  when  he  read  the  letter 
he  had  just  received.  Dr.  Wilton  was  so  highly  pleased 
with  the  prospect  of  enjoyment,  that  he  immediately  pro- 
posed that  all  of  them  should  ride  over. 

"  You  and  the  parson  can  go,  doctor,"  said  Mr.  Thaxton  ; 
"  but  I  am  a  little  too  old  now  to  enter  into  such  pleasures, 
though  I  should  like  to  see  them  all,  particularly  Laura 
and  Henry  Brandon.  Laura  is  an  old  favorite  of  mine 
from  a  child,  and  used  to  come  to  my  '  bench,'  when  work- 
ing at  her  fathef's,  nearly  every  day  ;  and  always  had  some 
little  job  for  me  to  do  for  her,  making  a  new  stool,  or  a 
bedstead  for  a  doll,  or  a  pleasure-carriage  to  be  made  out 
of  spools ;  yes,  she  was  a  sweet  child,  and  has  grown  up  a 
very  lovely  woman.  Lucy  was  a  nice  child,  but  was  shyer, 
and  rather  fiercer  —  took  more  after  the  mother,  who  was 
and  is  yet,  I  reckon,  as  proud  as  Lucifer,  and  as  self-willed, 
though  a  very  nice  woman." 

"  What  kind  of  boy  was  this  young  Henry  Brandon," 
asked  Dr.  Wilton. 

*'  One  of  the  finest  boys  I  ever  knew.  I  was  more  about 
Mrs.  St.  George  Brandon,  both  before  and  after  her  hus- 
band's death,  than  any  family  over  there ;  and  this  boy 
Henry  I  saw  a  great  deal  of,  clear  up  to  the  time  of  his 
leaving  for  college  —  a  very  fine  boy ;  but  very  wild,  care- 
less, reckless,  and  loved  his  fun.  He  had  a  negro  boy  that 
was  called  '  Sam  Brandon,'  that  always  went  with  him,  and 
a  great  rascal  Sam  was ;  except  when  Henry  was  at  school. 


106  BLOOM     AND     BRIER. 

he  was  always  to  be  found  near  him.  Henry  was  a  sort  of 
boy  sweetheart  to  Laura  Brandon,  and  judging  from  that 
letter,  I  think  it  is  about  to  be  revived." 

"  You  appear  to  know  all  about  them,  Mr.  Thaxton,'* 
said  Dr.  Wilton. 

"  Yes  ;  almost  as  much  about  them  as  I  do  about  myself. 
I  worked  among  them  for  numbers  of  years." 

Mr.  Thaxton  was  an  old  man  —  a  mechanic  by  trade  —  and 
had  made  the  house  of  the  elder  Mr.  Jerome  his  head- 
quarters since  his  first  coming  to  the  country,  and  had  been 
asked  to  do  so  by  his  executors,  after  his  death ;  and  since 
the  young  parson  had  returned,  had  been  invited  to  remain. 
He  had  already  acquired  a  competency,  and  was  leading  a 
life  of  quiet  ease.  Having  always  been  a  great  reader,  he 
now  passed  most  of  his  time  in  the  library  ;  he  was  a  man 
of  line  sense,  and  greatly  respected  by  all  who  knew  him. 
"  You  say  you  can't  go,  Mr.  Thaxton,"  said  Mr.  Jerome. 
"  No,  I  can't  go  ;  but  tell  Laura  I'll  get  over  there  before 
long,  and  stay  a  day  or  two  among  them,  just  to  see  what 
manner  of  grown  people  my  little  favorites  of  old  now 
make." 

Mr.  Jerome  and  Dr.  Wilton  made  preparations  for  going, 
and  about  the  hour  which  had  been  designated,  reached 
Mr.  Robert  Brandon's,  just  after  that  gentleman  and  Mr. 
Campbell  had  arrived  ;  and  not  a  great  while  after  them, 
Henry  Brandon  with  Thomas  Hunter  rode  up. 

"Hallo!"  said  Henry;  "what  can  be  the  matter  here 
to-night  ?  "  as  he  saw  the  house  very  unusually  lighted  up. 
"  I  can't  say,  Henry,  unless  your  aunt  is  illuminating  on 
account  of  your  coming." 

"Yes,  possibly  so ;  but  I  think  it  far  more  probable,  if 
that  was  the  cause  of  her  doing  anything,  for  her  to  blow 
out  every  light  for  a  mile  around." 

"Humph!  you  don't  rate  your  popularity  very  high 
with  the  good  lady." 


B  I.  O  O  M     A  N  D     U  R  I  E  R  .  107 

"  Yes,  about  as  high  as  ILunan  !  if  the  comparison  is  not 
a  solecism." 

*'  Sam  Brandon,"  who  was  with  them,  took  charge  of  their 
horses,  while  they  proceeded  to  the  house.  They  were  met, 
however,  at  the  gate  by  a  servant,  who  had  been  stationed 
there  to  receive  them,  and  by  him  were  told  who  was  pres- 
ent, and  what  the  occasion ;  they  were  then  invited  to  the 
gentlemen's  apartment,  where  they  could  prepare  them- 
selves. Having  but  little  preparation  to  make,  they  were 
soon  ready,  and  were  conducted  to  the  drawing-room.  Mr. 
Brandon  met  them  very  cordially,  and  congratulated  them 
on  becoming  his  guests  so  soon,  under  so  unexpectedly  pleas- 
ant circumstances.  Mrs.  Brandon,  too,  came  up  and  gave 
them  both  a  very  friendly  salutation,  with  but  little  for- 
mality, and  much  real  zest. 

"  More  gracious  than  I  had  expected,"  whispered  Henry 
to  Hunter,  as  Mrs.  Brandon  turned  away  from  them. 

It  can  easily  be  seen  that  in  so  small  a  company,  where 
each  one,  too,  was  so  well-known  to  the  other,  that  inter- 
course very  soon  became  easy  and  pleasing.  Henry  Bran- 
don renewed  the  slight  acquaintance  of  his  boyhood  wuth 
Mr.  Jerome,  and  Dr.  Wilton  he  had  already  met  several 
times  previously. 

Henry  Brandon  w'as  speaking  to  Mr.  Jerome,  and  asking 
about  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Thaxtou,  when  Laura  approached 
them,  and  said : 

"I  congratulate  you,  cousin,  in  so  soon  falling  into  the 
hands  that  I  intended  you  should.  I  particularly  enjoined 
Mr.  Jerome  to  be  here  to-night,  just  for  your  benefit.  I 
informed  him  of  the  peculiarities  of  your  case  :  he  is  aware 
of  your  reckless  character,  and  all  other  idiosyncrasies." 

"  You  scarcely  gave  the  \vhole  condition  of  your  patient, 
cousin.     Why  did  you  not  describe  it  as  reckless  love?'* 

"Well,  sir,"  she  replied,  blushing  very  prettily,  "it  is 
about  the  same." 


108  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

"Yes,  as  I  think,  it  might  be  classed  with  'vaulting 
ambition,'  which  we  have  good  authority  for  believing 
sometimes  'overleaps  itself.'" 

"  Ah !  that  is  a  confession  of  the  whole  charge,  and  very 
good  evidence  of  some  mental  derangement." 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  said  Mr.  Jerome,  pleasantly ;  "  at 
least  not  such  as  the  law  takes  cognizance  of;  but  cer- 
tainly it  is  amenable  to  the  charge  of  great  ambitiousness, 
since  he  aspires,  in  a  day  as  it  were,  to  an  honor  which 
some  I  might  speak  of  would  be  too  happy  to  acquire  after 
a  seven-years'  service."  Bowing,  as  he  said  this,  with  an 
affected  reference  to  himself,  he  turned  his  eye  inquiringly 
to  theirs,  as  if  in  the  act  of  saying  something  further,  but 
suppressed  it.     "What  would  you  say,  parson?  " 

"Oh,  nothing  —  an  idea  flashed  over  my  mind,  but  I 
believe  I  have  forgotten  it  —  at  least  it  *is  too  unfinished 
to  be  expressed  intelligibly."  He  might  have  said,  "  Your 
merry  jests  may  bring  a  sad  reflex  to  the  flowing  current 
of  your  fun." 

Laura  then  spoke,  saying  that  her  conquests  were  so 
easily  and  so  rapidly  made,  as  to  deprive  her  of  all  the 
pleasure  of  an  effort.  Seeing  Sally  Morton,  at  the  instant, 
off  at  a  little  distance,  in  conversation  with  Mrs.  Brandon, 
she  spoke  to  her,  and  requested  her  presence  for  a  short 
while.  As  Sally  came  up,  she  begged  her  to  accept  a  por- 
tion of  her  spoils,  as  she  really  had  more  than  she  could 
bear  off  from  the  field  of  her  victories. 

"  Will  you  receive  Mr.  Jerome  ?  He  is  perfectly  at  my 
disposal,  I  assure  you  —  the  right  of  conquest  conferring  that 
power  upon  me." 

"  Yes,  with  pleasure,  when  so  freely  bestowed  ;  but  you 
should  remember  that  the  vanquished  have  rights  which 
all  the  laws  of  civilization  require  the  victors  to  respect," 
said  Miss  Morton. 

"  I  will  waive  all  such  rights,"  said  Mr.  Jerome,  "  and 


RI.OOM     AND     BRIKR.  109 

willingly  transfer  my  allegiance,  since  it  is  valued  so 
lightly.'' 

"  Ah!  I  see  I  have  conferred  a  pleasure,  instead  of  inflict- 
ing a  punishment.  You  owe  me  at  least  a  debt  of  grati- 
tude for  managing  matters  so  happily  for  you,  even  if  inad- 
vertently done,  and  now  leave  you  to  your  good  fortune," 
at  the  same  time  taking  Henry  Brandon's  arm,  and  walk- 
ing off. 

Mr.  Jerome  laughingly  replied  to  her,  as  she  left :  "And 
to  my  admiration,  too,  for  the  skill  with  which  you  manage 
your  oivn." 

Laura  did  not  choose  to  reply  to  the  last  insinuation, 
but  went  directly  to  the  piano,  where,  instead  of  playing, 
as  her  first  motion  indicated,  she  still  held  carelessly  to  his 
arm,  as  if  unconscious  of  her  position.  Henry  Brandon 
then  said : 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  play,  Laura?" 

"  Oh !  do  you  wish  me  to  play  ? "  she  said,  starting  a 
little  as  he  spoke. 

"No;  not  if  you  do  not  wish."  Looking  at  her  then, 
with  what  feeling  he  scarcely  knew,  he  continued :  "  If 
this  be  a  right  of  the  vanquished,  defeat  is  worth  ten  thou- 
sand victories." 

She  only  replied  to  this  remark  by  a  pleasant  smile,  and 
seeming,  for  the  first  time,  conscious  of  her  familiar  sort  of 
position,  quietly  withdrew  her  arm,  saying :  "  You  must 
not  be  any  way  exclusive  in  your  attentions  to  me,  cousin, 
but  to  some  extent  must  play  the  host." 

"  Play  host  so  soon !  "  said  he,  laughing.  "  Should  I  not 
get  aunt's  permission  ? " 

Laura,  seeing  that  she  was  not  likely  to  foil  his  jests, 
said: 

"  I  will  leave  you,  my  young  humorist,  till  you  cool  the 
temper  of  your  waggish  tongue,"  and,  with  a  coquettish 
menace  of  her  finger,  left  him  standing  at  the  piano,  and 
10 


110  BLOOM     AND     B  R  I  E  U  . 

joined  Dr.  Wilton  and  Lucy,  who  were  near  by,  talking 
very  gayly. 

"  Doctor,"  said  she,  as  she  came  up,  "  this  is  not  the  part 
of  the  entertainment  which  you  are  under  obligation  to 
sustain:  your  duties  are  specific,  and  were  clearly  desig- 
nated. This  my  sister  knows,  yet  she  assists  you  in  their 
violation.     Which  shall  I  hold  responsible?" 

"  My  unworthy  self,  Miss  Brandon,  if  there  is  any  pen- 
alty attached ;  as  I  assure  you  none  can  be  too  great  for 
the  sweet  enjoyment  of  conversing  with  Miss  Lucy  Bran- 
don." 

"  Very  handsomely  spoken  ;  but  you  might  have  added, 
*  unless  it  be  for  a  sweeter ; '  therefore,  sister,  as  a  matter 
of  magnanimity,  you  must  let  me  introduce  the  doctor  to 
this  sweeter  joy,  and  better  fortune." 

Lucy  replied  that  she  very  reluctantly  yielded,  after  so 
gallant  a  speech ;  but  rather  insisting  on  Dr.  Wilton  ac- 
cepting her  sister's  proposition,  left  him  with  Laura.  The 
doctor  offering  her  his  arm,  the  two  walked  to  where  Mr. 
Robert  Brandon  was  sitting,  by  the  side  of  Julia  Hunter. 

"Father,"  said  Laura,  "pardon  me  for  interrupting  your 
pleasant  little  talk  with  Julia,  but  you  are  unconsciously 
infringing  on  a  right  which  had  previously  been  conferred 
on  another.  Dr.  Wilton  had  been  assigned  to  the  post  of 
honor,  at  the  side  of  Miss  Hunter,  even  before  he  came." 

"  Certainly,  my  daughter  ;  I  willingly  yield  my  position 
to  the  doctor's  fresher  years.  The  evening  sun  may  be  as 
bright,  but  not  so  warm  as  morning's,"  at  the  same  time 
rising,  offered  the  doctor  his  seat. 

Dr.  Wilton  had  already  met  with  Miss  Hunter  ;  but  the 
occasion  being  wanting  in  those  easy  features  which  Laura's 
familiar  words  to  her  father  at  once  imparted,  he  had  got 
separated  from  her.  The  conversation  soon  growing  unem- 
barrassed and  pleasing,  Laura  left  them  to  themselves,  play- 
fully enjoining  the   doctor  to   make  himself  exceedingly 


BLOOM     AND     B  K  1 1:  R  .  Ill 

agreeable  to  Mi^s  Hunter,  .saying,  she  would  be  back  very 
soon  for  a  report. 

Dr.  Wilton  gracefully  bowing  to  her,  and  regretting  her 
absence,  very  easily  and  naturally  assumed  the  assigned 
obligation  of  acting  as  the  "gay  cavalier"  to  Miss  Hunter. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"And  all  went  merry  as  a  marriage  bell." 

"TT7HEN  Lucy  Brandon  had  left  Dr.  Wilton  with  her  sister, 

'  V  she  immediately  joined  Mr.  Jerome  and  Miss  Morton  ; 
but  had  not  been  with  them  but  a  few  minutes,  when  young 
Robert  Hunter  also  came  up.  Lucy  immediately  addressed 
him,  as  if  with  reproach,  for  not  observing  the  understand- 
ing between  them,  of  being  her  attendant  during  the 
evening. 

The  youth  rather  bashfully  but  boldly  replied,  that  if  he 
had  looked  upon  it  as  a  right  on  his  part,  he  certainly 
should  have  attended  to  it,  as  he  had  more  than  once  seen 
it  endangered. 

"  Come,  Robert,  come  !  soothe  that  look  of  blushing  in- 
dignation, I  pray  you,  as  I  do  most  honestly  assure  you 
that  your  rights  have  not  been  damaged  by  any  act  of  mine  ; 
go  let  me  take  your  arm  and  leave  Mr.  Jerome  and  Miss 
Sally  alone.  There  is  an  old  saying  to  the  purport,  that 
over  two  often  spoils  company,  and  this  may  be  one  of  the 
occasions,  both  to  them  and  to  us." 

While  these  little  ingeniously  artistic  changes  and  con- 
versations were  going  on,  Henry  Brandon  still  remained  at 
the  piano,  apparently  listless,  but  really  in  a  sort  of  specula- 
tive revery.     A  strange  desire  was  in  his  heart  to  follow 


112  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Laura  in  person,  even  as  he  was  following  her  with  his  eye ; 
but  he  could  not,  dared  not.  He  wished  to  take  her  by  the 
hand,  and  to  look  into  the  calm  depths  of  her  soft,  beautiful 
eyes,  and  to  laugh  and  be  happy  as  he  did  so.  "  And 
must  I  call  this,  love  ?  "  said  he  to  himself.  As  yet  he  dared 
not;  and  yet  it  was  his  first  —  his  maiden  love. 

"  Ah !  what  is  love  ?  "  'Tis  that  which,  even  after  years 
have  scattered  their  tinsel-grey  through  the  once  glossy 
locks,  and  the  vicissitudes  of  life  have  brought  the  chill 
movement  of  age  to  the  heart,  still  thrills  the  bended  frame 
at  the  mention  of  its  name,  and  brings  back  to  memory  the 
wild  and  bounding  impulses  of  the  early  day. 

Oh !  what  is  love  ?  It  is  that  manly,  generous,  genial 
feeling  that  breathes  into  the  youthful  soul  such  thoughts  and 
promptings  to  glorious  actions,  as  may  be  favorably  brought 
to  the  feet  of  beauty,  wherewith  to  claim  the  guerdon  of 
its  smiles. 

*Tis  an  emotion  that  reaches  beyond  the  bounds  of  human 
life,  and  seeks  in  the  bright  realm  of  the  spirit-land  the 
realization  of  its  gorgeous  dreams !  It  is  that  which  comes 
to  the  heart  again,  in  the  gloom  of  the  olden  time,  and 
lights  up  the  evening  hour  of  its  sadness  with  the  sweet 
recollection  of  its  morning  hopes !  It  is  that  which,  in  after 
years,  doth  bring  back  the  maiden  form  that  floated  so 
gently  along  the  unclouded  skies,  and  gave  its  brightness 
to  the  early  paths  of  life.  Ay !  and  it  may  be  a  holy 
memory,  linking  the  living  and  the  dead  !  A  lovely  thing, 
perhaps  now  folded  in  the  cold  still  purity  of  the  shroud 
—  a  lost  but  remembered  joy  —  an  angel  now,  that  comes 
alone,  from  the  silver  courts  in  the  hushed  hours  of  the 
night,  and  with  unseen  hand  soothes  the  throbbing  brow, 
and  gives  to  age  and  sorrow  the  happy  dream  and  smile  of 
youth  once  more.  A  star !  in  the  eternal  azure  dome,  which 
from  its  far-off  home  still  points  our  way  through  time  ! 

But  heigho  I  Our  readers  must  pardon  us  for  this  garru- 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  113 

lous,  sentimental  sort  of  episode:  it  is  the  privilege  of  age, 
and  now  let  us  forward  to  our  story. 

The  conversation  of  our  little  party  had  now  become  so 
gay  and  animated,  that  the  dance  which  they  had  met  for, 
appeared  well-nigh  forgot.  But  there  was  one  just  making 
his  appearance,  whose  whole  soul  was  absorbed  in  the  re- 
sponsible duties  to  which  he  had  been  invited.  This  was 
the  old  black  fiddler.  Sanciio  was  now  an  old  negro,  very 
black,  slightly  cross-eyed,  tall  and  sinewy  ;  and,  in  his  own 
language,  had  been  "  much  of  a  man  in  his  young  days." 
He  had  come  to  Alabama  with  his  master,  and  had  long 
remained  his  chief  driver ;  but  was  now  too  old  for  active 
business,  and  had  for  several  years  done  but  little  else  than 
wait  upon  himself  Between  his  tobacco  patch,  basket- 
making,  chair-bottoming,  and  fiddling,  his  life  was  gliding 
smoothly  on  to  its  close.  His  family  had  belonged  to 
that  of  his  present  master's  family  since  the  arrival  of 
Sancho's  first  African  ancestor  on  the  coast  of  America,  a 
fact  upon  which  he,  in  common  with  all  negroes,  under  the 
same  circumstances,  ever  prided  themselves  ;  but  particu- 
larly did  he  pride  himself  upon  it,  as  he  thought  there  was 
no  family  whose  standing  equalled  the  Brandons ;  and 
looked  upon  his  young  mistresses  as  very  queens  of  per- 
fection and  beauty,  with  whom  he,  and  his  old  wife  also, 
were  very  great  favorites. 

The  proudest  hours,  now,  of  old  Sancho's  life,  were  those 
when  notified  that  his  services  on  the  violin  were  required 
by  "  Miss  Lucy  and  Miss  Laura." 

It  is  rather  a  singular  fact  —  in  which  there  is  a  deep 
philosophy  —  that  the  most  reliable  and  intelligent  negroes 
were  those  who  felt  the  greatest  reverence  for  white  people 
generally,  and  their  owners  particularly. 

In  addition  to  these  common  predilections,  Sancho  had 
an  especial  respect  for  all  Virginians,  but  a  more  especial 
respect  for  those  who   were  raised  on   the   tide-water  of 
10* 


114  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  James  Eiver,"  and  any  recollections  of  the  habits  and  cus- 
toms of  that  particular  locality  were  always  sufficient  with 
him  to  settle  any  disputed  point  of  either  conscience  or  fact. 

Sancho  had  walked  in  at  a  side  door,  and  seated  himself 
in  the  corner,  near  the  piano,  with  an  ostentatious  but 
very  polite  dignity.  His  arrival  not  occasioning  that  ces- 
sation of  mirth  and  general  conversation  as  quickly  as  he 
thought  so  important  an  event  deserved,  he  spoke  out,  very 
audibly  and  commandingly :  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  whilst 
I  plays  a  cliune  solus  by  myself,  selec'  yo'  partners.  Dat 
which  I  is  gwine  to  play  you  bein'  once  de  favorite  wid  de 
great  folks  on  the  tide-water,  and  are  knowed  by  the  name 
of  *  Ole  Virginny  Break-down,'  "  and,  without  further  cere- 
mony, led  off  in  fine  style,  with  the  tune  known  in  negro 
minstrelsy  by  that  name.  Concluding  it,  after  so  long  a 
time,  with  a  grand  flourish  upon  all  his  strings  at  once,  as 
nigh  as  he  could  do  so,  again  sang  out :  *'  Gentlemen,  has 
you  chose  your  ladies?  If  you  has,  lead  em  out,  and  I 
will  play  you  what  ar'  called  '  De  Lady  on  de  River,'  sposed 
to  be  Miss  Marthy  Dandidge,  afterwards  the  lady  of  Gin- 
eral  Washington,  bof  of  which  I  ar'  ofin  sede  when  I  war 
a  boy,  and  bowed  to  em  too."  After  these  commands  and 
this  sublime  piece  of  information,  he  said  to  Laura,  in  an 
undertone :  "  Miss  Laura,  will  you  sist  me  in  dis,  young 
Missus,  on  de  pianer  ? "  and  then  leading  off  in  grand  style, 
was  directly  followed  by  Laura,  who  was  not  in  the  dance. 

Henry  Brandon  had  not  joined  the  set,  and  now  came 
up  to  the  piano,  and  stood  near  Laura  as  she  accompanied 
old  Sancho. 

As  the  lovely  girl  was  rattling  along  with  her  music, 
there  was  an  expression  of  disinterested  joy  in  every  feature 
of  her  innocent  face,  which  seemed  to  him  scarcely  belong- 
ing to  earth.  There  was  in  it  no  taint  of  self,  but  purely 
a  desire  of  giving  pleasure  to  others.  She  caught  his  eye 
beaming  abstractedly  into  her  own,  as  these  thoughts  were 


BLOOM     A  N  D    IJ  K  I  K  II ,  11 5 

passing  through  his  niiiul,  and  rather  confusedly  said  to 
hira : 

"  Why  so  quiet,  cousin  ?     A  penny  for  your  thoughts." 

"  They  were  of  thee ;  but  if  '  music  be  the  food  of  love,' 
play  on." 

"  Ah !  I  feel  honored  in  being  the  subject  of  so  poetic 
an  abstraction.     But  tell  me  of  the  thoughts." 

"I  was  just  thinking  why  it  was  the  fates  had  made  us 
cousins. 

•''Earth  holds  no  other  like  to  thee, 
Or,  if  it  doth,  in  vain  for  me.'" 

This  was  his  first  approach  to  calling  her  sweetheart,  as 
he  had  threatened. 

"Why  so,  cousin?"  she  asked,  blushing  deeply  in  her 
confusion.  "  Do  you  so  regret  the  relationship  that  you 
wish  to  repudiate  it  ?  " 

"  No  —  unless  I  could  improve  it,"  said  he,  with  an  effort 
at  a  laugh. 

"  It 's  improvement  then  you  desire,  is  it  ?  What  would 
you  substitute,  my  noble  kinsman  ?  " 

She  was  innocent  in  this  open  question,  but  immediately 
saw  the  force  of  it,  and,  her  cheek  again  suffused  with 
blushes,  was  tremulously  awaiting  Henry  Brandon's  reply, 
which  was  fortunately  interrupted  by  old  Sancho  saying : 

"  Excuse  me,  young  Misses  ;  but  you  is  raly  playin'  outen 
chune  ;  "  then  turning  his  cross-eyes  to  Henry,  and  striking 
his  instrument  with  an  extra  force,  said :  "  You  was  de 
occasion  of  dat.  Mass  Henry  ;  "  and  fearing  that  the  danc- 
ers might  notice  the  confusion,  quickly  gave  out,  "  Prom- 
enade !  "  Then  speaking  to  Thomas  Hunter  —  who  had  not 
appeared  to  hear  him  — said  :  "  Promenade,  ]\Iass  Tom  !  " 

The  set  was  soon  over,  and  the  old  fellow  again  sang  out : 

"  Seat  your  partners  I  " 


116  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"Our  revels  now  are  ended;  these  onr  actors',  as  I  foretold  you,  were 
all  spirits,  and  are  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air." 

OLD  SANCHO,  after  a  few  minutes  rest,  resumed  the 
sweet  discourses  of  his  violin,  which  gave  a  bright 
animation  to  the  conversation  between  the  young  people. 

Some  little  incident  of  the  dance  being  mentioned,  Dr. 
Wilton  —  who  pretended  to  be  a  Presbyterian  —  appealed 
to  know  if  it  was  allowable  for  the  Episcopal  clergy  to 
participate  in  so  unspiritual  a  pastime  as  dancing. 

The  question  had  been  suggested  to  the  doctor  by  Sally 
Morton,  who  immediately  declared  that,  even  if  permis- 
sible, it  certainly  indicated  great  looseness  in  the  rules  of 
the  church. 

Mr.  Jerome  was  not  prepared  for  the  suddenness  of  this 
attack,  and  particularly  for  the  coinciding  with  it  of  Miss 
Morton,  who  had  danced  with  him ;  but  quickly  discov- 
ering the  pre-arranged  jest,  joined  in  with  the  spirit  of  it, 
and  replied : 

"Miss  Sally,  neophytes  are  always  zealous,  if  not  sin- 
cere :  I  shall  therefore  have  to  excuse  you  for  following  up 
the  prejudices  of  the  Baptists,  to  whom  you  belong.  I 
believe  they  say  that  dancing  was  the  cause  of  John  the 
Baptist  losing  his  head,  whom  they  very  boldly  but  erro- 
neously declare  to  be  the  author  of  their  church.  Yet 
you  have  no  right  to  a  use  of  this  singular  prejudice,  since 
you,  on  this  occasion,  played  the  part  of  Siloani." 

"  Yes,  I  agree  with  you,  parson,  that  Miss  Morton  well 
represented  the  part  of  Siloam,  if  beautiful  dancing  is  all 
that  is  necessary ;  but  we  cannot  let  you  escape,  even  to 
pay  her  a  just  compliment." 

In 'this  while  they  had  nearly  all  gathered  about  Mr. 
Jerome,  an  if  to  charge  him  with  an  unclerical  example  — 


BLOOM     AND     BRIKR.  117 

even  the  rather  retiring  Mr.  Campbell,  while  professing  to 
be  a  liberal  Methodist,  joined  in  the  general  attack. 

"Wrong,  as  I  may  be,  my  most  exemplary  parishioners, 
I  yet  occupy  a  better  position  than  any  of  you,  since  I  dis- 
cover that  I  am  a  victim  to  a  conspiracy,  and  ought  to  put 
in  a  plea  to  the  jurisdiction,  and  not' make  any  defence 
whatever  before  this  inquisition,  particularly  as  I  discover 
so  strong  an  element  of  heresy  in  its  composition.  I  will 
say,  though,  to  Dr.  AVilton,  that  as  there  is  nothing  in  the 
Scriptures  against  dancing,  there  is  nothing  againlt  it  in 
our  rubrics ;  it  therefore  can  only  be  condemned  where 
there  is  some  reprehensible  feeling.  Sterne,  in  his  *  Senti- 
mental Journey,'  speaks  of  a  very  pious  class  of  people, 
whom  he  met  somewhere  in  Switzerland,  that  danced  as 
a  part  of  their  religious  ceremonies.  I  will  dismiss  the 
doctor,  however,  with  the  remark,  that  his  denomination 
is  not  a  proper  tribunal  before  which  matters  of  church 
can  be  arraigned.  It  is  but  a  Puritan  association  or  insti- 
tution, given  over  to  all  manner  of  heresies,  from  ivltch- 
craft  down,  and  possesses  no  more  apostolic  consecration, 
and  no  more  usefulness,  than  a  Yankee  free-school." 

There  being  no  other,  even  nominal  Presbyterian  pres- 
ent, they  all  enjoyed  the  manner  in  which  he  dispatched 
the  doctor's  church. 

"  But,  Mr.  Jerome,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  hardly  think  it 
fair  that  you  let  the  IMethodists  off.  Mr.  Campbell  here 
united  in  the  charge  against  your  church." 

"No,  you  are  right,  doctor;  I  think  I  must  tell  the 
truth  on  Mr.  Campbell's  denomination  also,  since  he  has 
made  it  an  accuser  of  my  church.  Mr.  Wesley  was  a 
good  man,  and  had  always  been  a  good  Churchman  ;  but 
becoming  possessed,  I  suppose,  of  something  like  worldly 
ambition,  after  he  came  to  America  —  where  the  field  was 
open  — thought  to  get  up  a  church  of  his  own,  whicli  he 
supposed  himself  privileged  to  do,  so  long  as  he  did  not 


]18  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

pretend  to  invest  it  with  an  apostolic  character.  In  few 
"vrords,  Methodism  is  a  root,  of  lower  order,  of  the  Church, 
and  a  higher  one  of  Puritanism.  As  a  practical  system 
of  preaching  to  meet  the  religious  requirements  of  this 
country  at  that  time,  it  was  an  improvement;  and  the  error 
of  it  was,  that  he  detached  his  improvement  from  the 
Church,  and  endeavored  to  get  a  patent  for  it.  Their  '  Dis- 
cipline,' as  they  call  it,  in  regard  to  worldly  matters,  had 
its  foundation,  first,  in  the  spirit  which  arrogated  superior 
grace,  and  next,  in  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  people 
—  they  were  in  a  sort  of  quasi  exile  from  the  mother  coun- 
try, poor  and  sorrowful.  Their  ordinances  reflect  these 
facts  —  their  music,  even,  tells  of  social  dejection,  while 
their  songs  were  the  outpourings  of  human  despair,  and 
clearly  express  a  brighter  hope  in  death  than  in  life.  Their 
happiness  seemed  to  date  itself  from  the  hour  of  disso- 
lution. Poor,  moaning,  and  resigned  in  its  submissions,  it 
was  yet  bitter  in  its  expressions,  and  even  happy  in  its 
grief.  This  is  Methodism  as  it  was :  what  it  is,  it  is  diffi- 
cult for  any  one  to  say." 

All  laughed  heartily  at  Campbell  and  his  Church  ;  but 
he,  in  reply,  said  : 

"  To  show  you,  Mr.  Jerome,  that  I  am  not  amenable  to 
any  of  these  grave  charges,  I  not  only  forgive  you,  but 
invite  you  to  join  us  in  our  next  dance." 

Old  Sancho  was  now  called  on  by  Henry  Brandon  for 
music.  The  old  man  responded  promptly,  and  cried  out 
to  them  to  get  their  partners.  Every  one  insisted  on  Mr. 
rjerome  joining  them  again,  but  he  pleasantly  refused, 
assigning  as  his  reason  that  he  had  not  danced  before  for 
several  years,  and  it  had  fatigued  him. 

As  the  company  w^ent  out  on  the  floor,  old  Sancho  very 
pompously  announced  that  the  "chune"  he  would  play 
them  was  called  "  Ronoke,"  and  said  to  be  the  favorite  of  the 
great  Patrick  Henry,  who  was  "  hisself  a  great  fiddler." 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  119 

Sally  Norton,  by  agreement,  was  this  time  left  out,  and 
had  consented  to  assist  old  Sancho,  who  had  requested  it, 
in  his  music.  AVhen  the  dancers  had  got  fully  under  way', 
and  she  in  full  accord  with  the  old  black  fiddler,  but  ap- 
parently unconscious  of  the  elegance  of  her  execution,  Mr. 
Jerome  walked  to  the  piano  and  seated  himself  near  her. 
Observing  her  seeming  indifference,  he  remarked  that  she 
certainly  did  not  appreciate  the  beauties  of  "  Ronoke." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  think  it  has  a  very  decided  melody,  and  I 
really  admire  it." 

"  I  thought  not,  as  I  have  never  heard  you   play  such 


music 


"No,  I  do  not  very  often  ;  but  for  no  other  reason  than 
that  the  world  is  governed  in  music,  as  it  is  in  other  things 

—  by  fashion  — even  certain  styles  of  opinion  get  to  be 
fashionable,  and  few  are  found  bold  enough  to  differ. 
Fashion  too,  always,  I  believe,  relates  to  that  which  is  new 

—  indeed,  is  almost  synonymous  with  newness.  In  music, 
certain  songs,  pieces,  and  styles,  get  to  be  called  old;  andi 
therefore,  ceasing  to  be  fashionable,  are  never  called  for." 

"The  reason  then  of  you  playing  scientific  music,  is  sim- 
ply because  it  happens  now  to  be  fashionable?" 

"  To  a  great  extent,  yes ;  and  because  no  one  has  the 
courage  to  ask  for  any  other  kind.  .Alusic,  up  to  a  certain 
point,  represents  feeling;  beyond  that  it  becomes  a  science. 
My  tastes  and  feelings  run  entirely  with  the  simpler  styles 
and  I  confess  that,  at  heart,  I  am  old-fashioned  enough  to 
love  that  most  to  which  our  old  love-songs  are  set." 

The  expression  of  this  sentiment  particularly  pleased 
Mr.  Jerome,  for  two  reasons  — first,  because  it  coincided 
with  his  own ;  and  again,  because  it  was  significant  of  some 
sympathies  between  them,  which  he  was  anxious  to  believe 
did  exist.  It  struck  a  chord  in  his  own  heart,  and  he  re- 
plied with  much  apparent  interest  : 

"  There  is  nothing  that  more  decidedly  reflects  the  char- 


120  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

acter  of  a  people,  and  illustrates  their  social  life,  than 
music.  You  will  seldom  see  an  individual  who  loves  simple, 
natural  melody,  who  has  not  more  or  less  refined  feeling 
that  can  always  be  appealed  to.  Nature  seems  to  meet  its 
own  laws ;  and  so  far  as  this  country  is  concerned,  I  have 
remarked  that  artistic  music  has  only  succeeded  to  the  ag6 
of  great  mind,  and  to  truthful  and  just  thought  and  action. 
I  mean  that  as  one  has  appeared  to  recede,  the  other  has 
seemed  to  approach.  Of  course,  I  do  not  say  that  one  is 
the  cause  of  the  other,  I  only  speak  of  a  fact ;  and  the  fact 
is  first  observable  in  those  quarters  where  the  natural 
nobleness  of  society,  with  its  generous  feelings  and  gentle 
sympathies,  have  first  given  way  to  heartless  artificialities, 
and  cold,  senseless  abstractions.  I  would  instance  the  large 
cities." 

"Your  observations  are  quite  sweeping,  Mr.  Jerome, 
and  unless  you  modify  them,  I  shall  be  compelled  to  take 
up  the  foils  in  defence  of  my  new  friends  —  the  Operas  — 
come,  sir ;  can't  you  ? "  ^ 

These  words  while  banteringly,  were  so  pleasantly  spoken, 
that  he  was  half  disposed  to  yield  from  complaisance ;  but 
true  to  the  expression  of  his  opinions,  he  replied : 

"  'No,  I  cannot ;  what  I  have  said,  I  am  satisfied,  is  even 
less  than  true.  From  observation  and  from  reflection,  I 
have  concluded  that  most  of  the  great  thought  and  correct 
feeling,  which  permanently  direct  good  government  and 
healthful  society,  proceed  from  the  natural  and  simpler 
circles,  where  there  is  but  little  artificiality  of  any  sort. 
"Nature  produces  the  one,  while  what  is  called  society  forces 
up  the  other." 

"There  are  two  cities,  Mr.  Jerome,  which  you  might 
except  from  the  sweeping  tones  of  your  anathemas.  One  is 
Charleston,  my  own  paternal  city,  and  the  other  is  Boston." 

"  The  claim  you  put  in  for  Charleston  is  certainly  a  very 
good  one  with  ine,  Miss  Sally,  yet  the  truth  of  what  I  have 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  121 

said,  is  especially  illustrated  by  those  very  two  iiistancos. 
There  are  idiosyncrasies  peculiar  to  each  of  them,  which 
gives  them  a  secmino;  antipodal  appearance.  Yet  there  is 
a  sympathy  and  similarity  in  results  between  their  life  and 
style  of  thought  that  make  the  cases  quite  remarkable. 
Neither  of  these,  however,  are  at  all  remarkable  for  their 
musical  tastes." 

"  I  did  not  request  you  to  make  an  exception  of  Boston 
because  of  any  sympathy  or  admiration,  but  because  of  its 
acknowledged  literary  tastes ;  but  you  astonish  me  when 
you  place  these  two  cities  in  parallel  lines,  and  will  still  ask 
for  the  exclusion  of  Charleston  from  the  severity  of  your 
sentence." 

"  Where  you  are  concerned,  Miss  Morton,"  said  the  young 
parson,  smilingly,  "my  emotions  are  all  of  the  most  gallant 
character,  and  I  now  have  every  desire  to  grant  your  re- 
quest; but  as  I  cannot  identify  you  with  Charleston,  you 
must  allow  me  to  leave  her  beside  her  Puritan  sister. 
Sociological  heresies  are  the  chief  fruitage  of  Bostonism, 
while  political  heresies  is  that  of  Charlestonism.  And  on 
the  principle  that  extremes  meet,  there  is  a  baleful  sort  of 
sympathy  in  their  individual  results ;  and  I  have  an  idea 
that,  unitedly,  they  wull  exert  a  malign  influence  on  our 
national  fortunes,  at  no  very  distant  day.  Puritanism  and 
Huguenotism  have  the  same  ethnology  remotely ;  the  only 
difference  is  in  the  grafting  —  one  has  an  English  stock,  the 
other  French." 

"  Pardon  me  for  interrupting  you,  Mr.  Jerome ;  but  have 
you  read  Captain  Maryat's  book  on  America?" 

"  No,  I  have  not." 

"There  is  a  very  laughable  burlesque  in  the  article 
on  Boston,  in  regard  to  the  money-loving  character  and 
literary  qualifications  of  the  pretentious  Bostonians.  He 
says,  being  in  conversation  with  one  of  the  leading  lit- 
erary characters  of  the  city,  the  gentleman,  in  speaking 
11 


122  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

of  certain  speculations,  regretted  not  having  gone  into 
them,  as  he  "  would  not  only  have  doubled  and  tliribhled 
his  money,  hut  fourbled  undfibbled  it." 

Both  of  them  laughed  heartily  at  the  characteristic  jest, 
and  rose  from  the  piano,  as  the  set  was  over. 

Mr.  Robert  Brandon  at  this  time  saw  a  good  opportunity, 
as  the  little  company  sat  grouped  together,  to  make  the 
proposition  for  them  all  to  accompany  him  to  Gregory's 
Spring,  on  the  next  day.  The  proposal  was  readily  agreed 
to  —  as  it  had  already  been  spoken  of  before  —  and  every 
arrangement  was  quickly  made. 

As  soon  as  they  were  a  little  rested,  dancing  was  again 
resumed,  and  kept  up  at  a  merry  pace  until  twelve  o'clock, 
when  Mr.  Brandon,  announcing  the  hour,  proposed  that 
the  evening  be  closed  with  an  old-fashioned  Scotch  reel  — 
every  one  to  join  it.  Tliis  suggestion  was  at  once  adopted, 
and  a  reel  soon  formed,  with  Mr.  Robert  Brandon  and  his 
sister-in-law,  Mrs.  St.  George  Brandon,  at  the  head,  with 
Mr.  Jerome  and  Mrs.  Robert  Brandon,  at  the  foot. 

The  fun  now  ran  high  and  furious,  so  much  so,  that 
many  of  the  negroes,  who  were  dancing  on  the  galleries, 
stopped  their  own  amusement  to  witness  that  going  on  in 
the  parlor. 

We  have  not,  as  yet,  mentioned  a  feature  of  the  even- 
ing's entertainments,  but  will  now  do  so,  as  one  so  illus- 
trative of  the  relationships,  in  the  olden  time,  between  the 
whites  and  negroes,  masters  and  slaves,  and  so  refutatory  of 
the  falsehoods  since  uttered  in  regard  to  them. 

Individual  falsehood  is  certainly  very  disgraceful  to  the 
guilty  party,  whether  published  or  spoken ;  but  for  a  whole 
people  to  unite  in  a  chain  of  wretched  slanders  upon  an 
innocent  party,  surpasses  all  history  except  that  of  our 
own  Northern  people. 

Though  the  South  is  to  be  blamed  for  her  ill-advised 
manner  of  retaliation  —  secession  —  it  was  yet  but  a  law 


BLOOM     AND     BKIEK.  123 

of  nature  that  she  should  have  I'ult  a  thorough  contempt 
and  a  bitter  hatred  for  such  a  people.  And  now  that  their 
undoubted  malignity  has  been  gratified  by  a  destruction 
of  our  fortunes,  they  might  at  least  acknowledge  the  slan- 
der— and  even  more,  since  they  have  grown  rich  by  their 
philanthropy.  They  might  at  least  propose  some  method 
of  honorable  compensation. 

As  soon  as  it  had  become  known  on  "  the  quarter  "  that 
there  was  to  be  a  dance  up  at  the  "  yard,"  every  young 
negro  on  the  plantation  assembled  there,  and,  during  the 
entire  evening,  were  dancing  on  the  galleries,  and  in  the 
yard,  to  the  same  music,  and  with  the  same  well-marked 
pleasure  of  their  young  masters  and  mistresses  within. 
Just  after  the  dancing  stopped,  Mrs.  Brandon  had  sent  out 
the  remainder  of  the  abundant  amd  elegant  supper  —  wliich 
had  been  standing  in  the  dining-room  —  to  be  divided 
among  them.  After  eating,  they  all  united  in  one  of  their 
simple,  but  highly  musical  walking-songs,  and  marched  in 
order  back  to  their  cabins  —  never  dreamino-  or  desirinsr 
that  this  happy  and  patriarchal  sort  of  relationship  to  their 
masters  would  be  destroyed  by  Boston  fanaticism  forcing 
them  upon  an  effort  at  equality,  which  the  God  of  nature 
has  designed  never  to  be  consummated.  But  so  goes  the 
world  —  the  wheel  of  fortune  is  everything,  and  we  may 
be  up  next,  and  possibly  will  behave  as  meanly.  Retali- 
ation seems  to  be  the  highest  law  of  human  morals ;  but 
retribution  is  God's  own  law.  We  had  slaves  —  they  have 
the  bonds  for  which  they  were  sold.     AVe  bide  our  time. 


124  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"And  there  is   e'en  a  happiness, 
That  makes  the  heart  afraid." 

THE  eleventh  of  October,  18 — ,  was  one  of  the  blandest, 
gentlest  days  of  the  year  —  it  was  clear,  calm,  softly 
beautiful,  and  had  that  mystic  ring  peculiar  to  the  requiem 
which  nature  ever  sings  in  the  South  to  the  departing  glory 
of  summer.  The  landscape  mingles  in  this  sighing  lamen- 
tation, this  gentle  melancholy,  and  adds  its  share  to  the 
sweet  sadness  of  the  season.  The  leaves  of  the  trees  have 
faded  away  their  heavy  green,  and  the  shadows  they  cast 
are  not  so  deep  and  dense.  The  flowers,  too,  that  in  their 
hour  of  gorgeous  beauty  reflected  proudly  back  the  blaz- 
ing rays  of  the  summer  sun,  now  droop  their  heads,  and 
tint  their  petals  with  the  mellowed  hues  of  the  surrounding 
scene.  These  make  up  the  epithalamium  of  our  Southern 
winter,  ere  the  harsh  hours  of  its  boreal  reign  begins. 

Human  life  owes  much  to  the  autumn  of  the  year  —  the 
boiling  blood  of  summer  flows  cooler  to  the  heart,  and  its 
swift  emotions  are  soothed  to  a  gentler  speed.  It  is  a  season 
of  generous  forgiveness  —  a  type  of  death  itself,  before  it 
flings  upon  the  human  form  the  stark  shadows  of  the  tomb. 

We  have  said  the  day  was  clear  and  calm,  and  lovely, 
and  so  it  was ;  yet  there  was  that  peculiar  sadness  in  it 
which  some  days  have,  that  none  can  feel  or  see,  save  those 
whose  fortunes  are  to  be  effected. 

Henry  Brandon  felt  this  strange  influence,  but  could  not 
trace  it  to  its  source ;  the  conformities  iji  the  far  off*,  unseen 
diagram  of  life,  and  the  combinations  in  the  crucible  of 
events  which  make  up  each  one's  destiny,  had  not  yet  de- 
veloped themselves ;  but  only  glimmering  their  slanting 
rays  upon  his  heart,  were  already  lightning  him  on  to  the 
point  of  its  solution.     He  was  only  waiting  for  its  coming. 


BLOOM     AND     BKIER.  125 

Carriages,  horses,  aud  servants  were  already  at  the  gate, 
in  readiness  for  the  trip  to  Gregory's  Spring.  Neither  of 
the  Mrs.  Brandons  were  going,  but  had  united  in  arrang- 
ing every  possible  thing  for  the  comfort  of  their  daughters 
and  their  company.  Mrs.  Robert  Brandon  had  attended 
to  a  most  sumptuous  lunch  being  prepared,  while  the  girls 
had  taken  the  extra  precaution  to  store  away  a  few  bot- 
tles of  wine,  "  for  the  pleasure  of  father  and  his  friends," 
as  they  salt/;  but  quite  likely  with  an  eye  to  their  own 
friends. 

After  a  delightful  drive  they  reached  the  Spking  in  good 
time.  We  might  have  said  delightful  drive  and  ride;  for 
be  it  known  that  in  those  days  it  was  the  style  for  young 
gentlemen  to  accompany  the  carriages  of  ladies  on  horse- 
back, and  we  have  to  regret  the  subsequent  change  —  buggies 
being  far  less  knightly  in  appearance,  and  very  decidedly 
Yankeeish. 

Though  reaching  there  quite  early,  there  had  already 
met  a  very  large  concourse  of  people  from  the  surrounding 
country,  for  the  various  purposes  of  seeing  each  other, 
enjoying  a  good  dinner,  and  hearing  two  speakers,  considered 
by  their  respective  parties  as  the  most  eloquent  of  the  State, 
and  not  inferior  to  any  in  the  South. 

These  semi-social,  semi-political  gatherings,  with  a  public 
dinner  gotten  up  by  subscription,  for  hearing  the  discussion 
of  topics  which  subsequently  lent  their  influence  to  bringing 
on  the  late  civil  war,  were  at  that  time,  and  long  continued 
to  be  a  marked  feature  in  the  political  life  of  the  South ; 
and  had  much  to  do  with  the  cultivation  of  that  peculiar  elo- 
quence, by  which  the  multitude  was  lashed  into  rage  at  the 
overdrawn  pictures  of  its  wrongs.  The  perfect  equality  of 
all  who  met  on  such  occasions,  the  general  abandon  of  the 
b-urroundings,  and  the  political  rivalries,  amounting  to  per- 
sonal identification  with  speakers,  were  the  sources  of  great 
encouragement  to  aspirants  for  the  honors  of  "stump 
11* 


126  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

oratory."  It  became  a  perfect  system  of  action  and  reaction, 
of  people  upon  the  speaker,  and  speaker  upon  the  people, 
in  which  both  became  terribly  damaged  at  a  later  day. 
This  style  of  political  debate  propagated  quite  as  much 
error  in  statistics,  opinions,  and  theories,  as  it  did  of  truth 
as  a  sentiment,  (to  say  the  very  best  of  it.)  Contributing 
very  greatly,  not  only  to  the  prejudices  between  the  sections, 
but  to  bitter  antagonisms  between  our  own  people,  it  had 
much  to  do  with  the  defeat  of  the  South  in  the  subsequent 
war,  by  creating  party  resentment.  What  one  party  desired 
the  other  invariably  opposed.  Without  that  deep-set  party 
division  of  sentiment,  the  South  would  not  have  been  de- 
feated. However,  right  or  wrong,  her  nerve,  with  all  the 
odds  against  her,  was  sufficient  for  victory. 

At  the  usual  hour  the  speaking  began.  Mr.  Brandon 
and  Colonel  Haywood,  each  occupying  an  hour,  were  each 
in  turn  pronounced  to  be  unanswerable. 

The  "Barbecue"  was  very  soon  announced,  and  the  vast 
concourse  began  to  move  in  the  direction  of  the  tables. 

Just  at  this  time,  Mr.  Brandon  was  approached  by  old 
Mr.  Gray,  and  cordially  congratulated  for  his  able  and 
eloquent  defence  of  the  Whig  party.  This  was  very  pleas- 
ing to  Mr.  Brandon,  as  Mr.  Gray  was  one  of  the  leading 
Whig  citizens  of  the  county,  a  gentleman  of  excellent  sense, 
and  fine  general  information;  and  one  of  the  really  wealthy 
men  of  the  South.  After  some  general  conversation  be- 
tween the  two,  as  to  the  prospects  of  Mr.  Clay's  success, 
Mr.  Gray  said : 

"  Well,  sir,  I  have,  at  the  particular  request  of  my  wife 
and  daughter,  come  to  ask  you  to  lunch  with  us  privately, 
at  our  carriage." 

"  I  would  do  so  with  pleasure,"  replied  Mr.  Brandon  ; 
"  but  my  own  daughters  are  here,  and  have  a  good  deal  of 
young  company  with  them." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  old  gentleman,  rubbing  his  hands  with 


BLOOM     A  XD     BRIER.  127 

delight  at  the  prospect  of  au  increase  to  his  company  ;  "  the 
more  the  merrier.  I  expect  we  have  enough  for  all,  and  to 
spare.  I  will  be  very  happy  to  be  introduced  to  your 
daughters  and  their  company." 

Mr.  Brandon  saw  that  he  had  to  lunch  with  hi.s  old 
friend,  and  proposed  to  walk  to  his  carriage,  where  he  said 
he  should  find  them.  On  reaching  there,  all  Mr.  Brandon's 
young  friends  were  present,  except  Henry  Brandon,  who 
had  not  yet  come  up. 

Mr.  Brandon  introduced  Mr.  Gray  to  his  daughters,  when 
the  old  gentleman  told  them  he  had  a  special  commission 
from  his  wife  and  daughter,  to  ask  Mr.  Brandon  and  friends 
to  lunch  with  them  at  their  carriage. 

"  And  not  being  present  themselves,  I  can't  well  return 
"without  him ;  indeed,  I  almost  fear  to  do  so,  as  you  know 
the  welcome  of  a  bearer  of  bad  news." 

The  girls  seeing  that  the  invitation  looked  to  no  refu- 
sal, consented  to  go  without  further  hesitation. 

"But,  Mr.  Gray,"  said  Laura,  "you  probably  are  not 
aware  of  the  extent  of  our  dining  retinue.  Mrs.  Gray  will 
certainly  not  expect  such  a  train  as  we  bear." 

"Ah !  the  length  of  it  will  only  give  us  the  greater  credit 
for  hospitality ;  and  then,  too,  if  we  should  possibly  fall 
short,  we  will  send  and  borrow  your  dinner.  Oh,  no,  my 
dear  daughter,  the  train  you  carry  can  be  no  objection,  not 
at  all ;  so  far  from  it,  a  very  decided  recommendation." 

"  Another  objection  to  our  swooping  down  upon  Mrs. 
Gray  in  such  unexpected  numbers  is,  that  we  shall  never 
get  through  the  introductions  intelligibly." 

"Yes,  yes,  that  is  a  great  difficulty;  so  we  will  not 
attempt  it,  but  all  get  acquainted  as  they  can.  Come,  let 
us  go ;  we  are  already  expected,  and  every  possible  diffi- 
culty is  removed." 

They  found  Mrs.  Gray  and  her  daughter  standing  near 
their  carriage.     A  general  introduction  of  Mr.  Brandon 


123  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

and  his  friends  was  given  by  the  old  gentleman,  and  par- 
ticular ones  by  the  young  people  to  each  other,  as  well  as 
they  could  manage  it ;  at  all  events,  they  were  not  long  in 
getting  very  well  acquainted,  and  very  easy. 

They  had  quite  half  finished  their  repast  before  Henry 
Brandon  came  up.  His  uncle  immediately  introduced 
him  to  Mr.  Gray  and  his  wife ;  and  as  he  turned  from 
them,  Laura  introduced  him  to  Mary  Gray. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

"  Care  to  our  coffin  adds  a  nail  no  doubt, 
And  every  grin  so  merry  draws  one  out." 

QUIZZICAL  glances  shot  from  the  eyes  of  Violet  and 
Henry  Brandon,  as  Laura  introduced  him  to  Miss 
Gray.  But  she  was  all  that  Violet  had  represented  her. 
She  was  tall  in  stature,  but  very  handsomely  developed, 
and  moved  with  an  ease  of  action  not  often  equalled. 
Altogether,  her  appearance  was  distinguished,  and  well 
calculated  to  attract  attention  and  admiration.  Her  eye 
was  a  full  dark-blue,  with  just  enough  of  fire  in  it  to  give 
its  expression  a  high  intellectuality,  while  her  exquisitely 
chiselled  mouth  and  chin  at  once  conveyed  the  impression 
of  great  mirthfulness,  good  feeling,  and  fearlessness. 

For  some  mysterious  reason,  Henry  Brandon  found  him- 
self irresistibly  drawn  to  her,  and  was  not  long  in  engaging 
in  a  free  and  pleasing  conversation.  Old  Mr.  Gray,  with 
his  quick  eye,  soon  observed  the  friendship  which  had 
been  so  suddenly  extemporized  between  them,  and  with 
evident  pleasure  took  frequent  occasion,  while  talking  to 
Mr.  Brandon,  to  look  that  way. 

Among  many  high,  stern,  and  manly  qualities,  the  old 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  129 

gentleman  had  many  little  eccentricities,  among  which 
was  an  unsurpassed  delight  in  the  love  affairs  of  young 
people,  and  with  all  his  industry  and  energy,  always  found 
time  to  direct  attention  to  them.  Nothing  was  to  him  of 
more  importance  than  helping  such  matters  along. 

Observing,  from  time  to  time,  the  cozy,  mirthful  sort 
of  intimacy  which  we  have  just  spoken  of  between  his 
daughter  and  Henry  Brandon,  he  could  no  longer  restrain 
his  inclination  to  join  them,  and,  suddenly  leaving  Mr. 
Brandon  in  company  with  Mrs.  Gray  and  some  mutual 
friends  who  had  come  up,  he  turned  his  attention  to  the 
young  people,  as  if  to  inquire  whether  they  had  been 
properly  attended  to  by  his  daughter,  and  became  engaged 
in  a  general  conversation  with  them,  seeming  to  enjoy  it, 
too,  with  great  zest.  After  conversing  with  them  for  sev- 
eral minutes,  and  making  himself  very  agreeable,  he  man- 
aged to  cut  Henry  Brandon  off  to  himself,  but  as  if  by 
accident,  saying  to  him,  as  he  did  so : 

"  I  knew  your  father,  Mr.  Brandon,  rather  intimately, 
in  his  lifetime.  He  was  much  younger  than  I  was  ;  but 
as  we  had  both  come  to  the  country  when  it  was  new,  and 
both  strangers,  we  became  quite  friends.  He  was  very 
fond  of  hunting ;  and  as  I  lived  in  a  very  fine  deer  range, 
he  frequently  called  in  to  see  me ;  and  I  remember,  too, 
having  seen  you  with  him  occasionally.  You  were  a  little 
fellow  then,  but  rode  your  pony  very  finely.  I  should  not 
have  known  you,  however,  to-day,  as  you  have  grown  to 
manhood  since.     Why  is  it  I  have  never  seen  you  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  is  because  I  have  been  absent  for  several 
years  at  college,  and  have  only  returned  within  the  last 
four  weeks." 

"  Ah,  ha !  yes,  so  I  suppose.     At  a  Northern  college  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir."" 

"Well,  I  must  confess  to  some  prejudice  against  the 
North,  of  late,  particularly  though  on   account  of  her 


130  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

pragmatical  conduct  toward  the  South  in  regard  to  African 
slavery.  I  have  travelled  among  them  a  great  deal ;  and 
though  I  knew  them,  in  a  general  way,  to  be  a  very  small- 
minded,  inquisitive,  conceited  sort  of  people,  I  was  willing 
to  forgive  them  for  their  littleness ;  but  I  am  not  disposed 
to  excuse  their  hypocritical  interference  in  matters  that  do 
not  concern  them.  The  whole  movement  is  entirely  one 
of  meanness;  for  even  supposing  that  slavery  is  wrong, 
their  ships  brought  them  over  as  long  as  the  trade  was 
legitimate,  and  after  it  ceased  to  be,  their  ships  it  was  that 
long  ran  the  'middle  passage.'  But  soon  finding  that 
slave  labor  was  not  profitable  in  their  cold  climate,  they 
sold  them  to  us ;  and  scarcely  had  they  got  the  cash  in 
their  pockets,  before  they  began  crying  out  against  it  as  a 
great  sin  and  a  national  disgrace." 

"  Yes,"  said  Henry  Brandon,  "  you  are  correct  in  your 
remarks  upon  their  character  as  a  people ;  and  though  I 
met  with  but  few  abolitionists,  they  were  yet  organizing 
very  resolutely,  and  will  before  long  become  formidable. 
They  are  essentially  a  democratic  people,  and  giving  every 
question  a  political  complexion,  they  soon  have  them  be- 
fore the  public,  and  make  political  success  turn  upon  them. 
In  short,  they  make  every  subject  a  political  one,  just  as 
they  have  free-masonry,  temperance,  religion,  etc.  I  was 
struck  with  a  remark  which  Mr.  John  Randolph  made 
to  me,  on  meeting  with  him  at  Philadelphia.  He  had  known 
my  father,  and  took  the  liberty  to  advise  me  to  go  back  to 
the  South  — '  to  William  and  Mary,  sir ;  to  William  and 
Mary,  the  only  gentlemen's  college  on  this  continent.  These 
people  will  not  do,  sir ;  not  reliable,  sir,  in  anything— you 
can  forgive  a  crime,  but  not  a  meanness'  " 

The  old  gentleman,  after  laughing  heartily  at  the  fero- 
cious humor  of  Mr.  Randolph,  said : 

"  Yes,  there  is  too  much  truth  in  the  remark ;  and  unless 
the  course  of  the  abolitionists,  which  is,  as  you  say,  from 


BLOOM     AND    BRIER.  l.-^I 

the  peculiar  character  of  that  people,  bound  to  idciitit'v 
itself  with  political  questions  — and,  unless  the  course  of  the 
Democratic  party  in  the  South  can  be  arrested  in  some 
manner,  our  government  is  sure  to  fail." 

"  I  have  never  paid  a  great  deal  of  attention  to  political 
matters,  but  am  disposed  to  think  with  you;  so  far  as  I 
know,  I  am  a  Whig,  from  instinct  and  from  reason." 

This  announcement  was  so  pleasing  and  so  satisfactory 
to  the  old  gentleman  that,  after  a  few  other  commonplace 
remarks,  he  turned  from  the  young  people  back  to  :\rr. 
Brandon,  who  was  now  surrounded  by  other  friends  who 
had  come  up  to  see  him. 

Miss  Gray,  by  an  apparently  careless  movement,  came  to 
the  side  of  Henry  Brandon,  and  relieved  the  awkward  sort 
of  silence  in  which  he  had  been  left  by  her  father,  by 
saying : 

"  Has  my  father  been  examining  you,  Mr.  Brandon,  as 
to  your  classical  attainments  or  political  affinities?  for  next 
to  his  Church,  he  believes  in  the  Whig  party,  and  next  to 
that,  in  education." 

"In  neither  directly,''  said  Henry  Brandon,  laughingly; 
"  but  indirectly  in  both." 

**  You  are  a  Whig,  of  course." 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  and  I  went  into  a  regular  confession  to  him, 
and  I  think  we  are  now  most  wonderful  friends." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  impressed  each  other  so 
favorably ;  there  can  be  but  one  drawback  to  his  taking 
you  into  fellowship  with  him,  and  I  am  astonished  that  he 
omitted  bringing  you  out  on  that  point.  I  mean  your 
Church  relationships." 

"  No,  he  did  not  even  refer  to  that  subject ;  but  I  am  easy 
on  that  head,  and  am  ready  to  subscribe  to  any  that  he 
prefers,  provided  it  will  perfect  the  bond  of  amity  be- 
tween us." 

"Will  you  let  me  ask  you,  Mr.  Brandon,  what  Church 


132  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

rejoices  in  the  pleasure  of  your  preference  and  patronage, 
outside  of  such  influences?" 

"  The  Episcopal,  of  course." 

"  Then  there  is  some  excuse  for  the  plasticity  of  your 
conscience." 

"  Well,  Miss,  I  will  only  retort  the  sarcasm,  by  asking 
if  no  consideration  can  be  ofl^ered,  sufficient  to  induce  you 
to  come  to  that  church." 

"  No ;  I  cannot  think  of  any  just  now." 

"Then,"  said  he,  bursting  out  in  a  laugh,  "shall  I  have 
to  go  to  yours  —  your  father's,  I  mean.  Will  you  now  be 
kind  enough  to  inform  me  which  that  is,  so  that  I  may  take 
the  required  steps  of  admission?" 

"Methodist,  of  course;  which  other  could  it  be?" 

"Methodist!  Oh!  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect!  Right 
bad,  most  truly ;  but  then  I  will  stand  to  it,  if  need  be : 
so  when  we  meet  again,  you  may  expect  me  to  have  ac- 
quired many  of  its  grim  accomplishments,  and  to  be  an 
adept  in  many  of  its  sombre  ceremonies.  I  believe  Mr. 
Watts  is  your  psalmist,  and  with  a  rueful  face  I  will  sing 
you  a  song  most  dolefully ;  in  short,  I  shall  be  prepared  to 
perform  any  part,  necessary  to  securing  your  favor  —  no, 
excuse  me  again  —  your  father's  favor." 

**  Except  to  pray  without  a  book,"  she  added,  in  his  own 
vein  of  fun. 

"  Well,  yes ;  I  may  have  to  use  a  book  for  a  short  time, 
but  think  I  shall  soon  be  able  to  make  up  as  long,  ram- 
bling, and  tangled  an  orison,  as  your  most  gifted  gospeller." 

"Mr.  Brandon,"  she  said,  laughing  outright,  "I  fear  you 
are  either  witty  at  our  expense,  or  too  willing  a  convert ;  if 
either,  and  I  should  communicate  the  belief  to  my  father, 
the  charm  which  you  have  thrown  around  him  would  at 
once  be  dissolved  forever." 

"  For  mercy's  sake,  then,  never  breathe  so  sacrilegious  a 
suspicion  against  my  new-born  zeal,  or  make  a  suggestion 


B  L  O  O  M     A  N  D     B  R  I  K  R  .  1 33 

that  would  so  cruelly  affect  my  spiritual  fortunes  ;  as  I  have 
fully  made  up  my  mind  to  ally  myself  with  him  in  some 
manner." 

'*  Have  you  any  preference?"  said  Laura,  who  had  just 
come  up. 

"  Perhaps  I  might  have,  but  then  any  will  do,  cousin 
Laura." 

With  a  mischievous  twinkle  in  her  eye,  she  then  said: 

"  How  would  you  like  to  get  the  appointment  of  sexton 
to  the  church  in  Mr.  Gray's  neighborhood?" 

"  I  had  not  exactly  thought  of  that  degree.  But,  hush  ! 
cousin  Laura ;  you  break  the  chain  of  my  speculations, 
and  make  but  a  ghostly  jest." 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Gray,  for  my  interference  in  your  con- 
versation :  I  only  wished  to  put  his  professions  to  some  test." 

"  Oh,  certainly  !  I  am  glad  that  you  came  to  my  assist- 
ance and  suggested  that  idea,  as  I  think  that  office  is  now 
vacant,  which  will  allow  of  his  opening  negotiations  with 
my  father  immediately  for  promotion  to  it,"  and  laughed 
heartily  at  catching  him  so  amusingly. 

"  Young  ladies,  I  shall  have  to  become  offended  with 
vou,  if  further  derision  of  my  new-born  zeal  is  indulged 
in." 

■  Both  of  them  protesting  against  having  any  such  feeling, 
he  said: 

"  Well,  to  be  in  earnest — as  this  matter  properly  requires 
me  to  be  —  I  can  say  that  I  have  one  advantage,  which 
will  gainsay  any  evil  report  which  you  may  make  of  me, 
and  that  is  that  I  am  a  converted  man.  I  believe  what  is 
called  *  CONVERSION '  is  an  article  in  the  Methodist  faith, 
is  it  not?" 

"  Yes,  I  will  suppose  it,  just  to  let  you  develop  your 
plan.     Let  me  hear  you,  Mr.  Brandon." 

"  We  will  suppose,  then,  that  penitent  persons  are  conr 
verted  in  one  thing  at  a  time." 
12 


134  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  Yes,  we  will  consider  it  so  for  the  present." 

"Then  I  come  in  under  the  saving  ordinance,  for  I 
came  here  in  the  undivided  idolatry  of  my  lovely  cousin 
Laura ;  but  now  I  find  myself —  shall  I  say  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly !  " 

"A  worshipper  not  only  of  that  bright  morning  star  of 
my  life,  but  of  that  beautiful  dawning  gray  that  follows 
upon  its  setting." 

All  three  laughed  heartily  at  the  conceit,  and  assured 
him  that  his  effort  at  being  facetious  was  very  decidedly 
meritorious,  on  the  ground  that  perfect  and  unexpected 
absurdity  was  a  nigh  approach  to  humor. 

"  My  cousin,"  said  Laura,  "  your  infatuation  even  sur- 
passes your  impudence.  Allow  me,  Miss  Gray,  to  inter- 
vene in  his  behalf,  by  informing  you  that  we  had  a  bottle 
of  wine  or  so  in  our  carriage." 

"  Now,  dear  Laura,  do  not,  I  beseech  you,  destroy  my 
budding  reputation  with  Miss  Gray  !  You  insinuate  that 
my  asseverations  are  intoxication,  instead  of  that  heaving 
of  the  heart  in  an  effort  at  unweaving  i^  destiny — yea,  the 
very  inspiration  of  love  itself  for  Miss  Gray's  Church  and 
its  members." 

At  this  both  girls  literally  screamed  with  laughter, 
Henry  Brandon  joining  them.  Miss  Gray  then  said  to 
Laura,  that  no  apologies  were  necessary,  as  she  felt  too 
greatly  flattered  to  be  offended  —  "He  has  invested  me  with 
almost  magical  powers  of  infatuation,"  then  turning  to 
Henry  Brandon,  remarked : 

*'  Yes,  sir,  I  invite  you  to  the  bosom  of  our  Church,  where 
you  will  always  find  the  brothers  ready  to  receive  young 
wanderers  into  the  fold  of  safety  and  love." 

"And  love!  did  you  say,  Miss  Gray?  Are  the  sisters, 
too,  as  kind  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sometimes,"  laughing  at  his  cunning  humor. 

"  Say  but  always  ;  and  I  go  without  standing  on  the  order 


BLOOM     AND     BIIIEK.  135 

of  my  going.  Yes,  Mis^s  Gray,  our  meeting  has  had  a  good 
deal  of  magic  in  it,  and  let  me  explain.  Some  six  or  eight 
weeks  since,  I  returned  home  after  a  four  years'  absence ; 
since  then  I  have  seen  nothing  after  the  fashion  of  your 
lovely  sex,  save  these  two  beautiful  cousins  of  mine,  and 
as  you  may  easily  imagine,  my  fate  was  fast  being  sealed." 
Then  pointing  to  Laura,  said  — "  What  could  I  do,  but 
yield  this  young  heart  of  mine  to  her  love  and  worship. 
Even  knowing  too,  that  it  would  bring  upon  me  all  the 
woes  of  Troy ;  since  I  would  have  to  steal  this  lovely 
Helen,  did  I  succeed  at  all." 

"Cousin,"  said  Laura,  "your  figure,  or  comparison,  is  an 
unfortunate  one,  as  well  as  a  solecism.  Moreover,  neither 
Miss  Gray  nor  myself  will  consent  to  hold  this  alternate 
sort  of  position,  particularly  when  so  boldly  avowed." 

"  Oh !  Miss  Brandon,  I  scarce  know  how  to  refuse  an 
interest  in  so  fine  a  gem,  and  am  even  quite  willing  to  ac- 
cept a  secondary  one  to  your  own." 

"His  value  is  full  sufficient  for  division,  I  acknowledo-e: 
but  as  his  kinswoman,  with  some  show  of  right,  permit  me 
to  be  generous  and  confer  upon  you  a  perfect  title." 

"Laura,"  interrupted  Henry  Brandon,  rather  more 
hurriedly  than  he  was  aware  of,  or  was  consistent  with  the 
careless,  dashing  part  he  had  been  playing,  "  will  you  not 
consent  to  retain  an  interest  in  your  forlorn  kinsman. 
Methinks  the  security  which  two  such  proprietors  would 
aflTord,  is  not  to  be  yielded  up  without  some  trepidation  at 
the  possible  results." 

"  Do,  Miss  Brandon,  retain  an  interest.  I  will  only  ask 
a  reversionary  claim,  in  event  of  your  becoming  weary  of 
the  original  possession." 

At  this  moment,  Mr.  Gray,  attracted  by  the  merriment, 
returned  to  them,  when  Henry  Brandon  became  quite  re- 
ticently grave  and  dignified.  The  two  young  girls,  with 
whom   he    had  been    indulging    in   his   mad  jests,  could 


136  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

scarcely  restrain  an  outburst  of  laughter  ;  and  stepping  a 
little  back,  shook  their  fingers  banteringly  at  him,  as  much 
as  to  say,  Now,  my  gay  Lothario,  let  us  see  you  behave 
yourself. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"But  I  am  constant  as  the  northern  star, 
Of  whose  true-fixed  and  resting  quality 
There  is  no  fellow  in  the  firmament." 

IT  was  near  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  and  many  persons 
were  leaving,  when  Mr.  Brandon  remarked  to  his  daugh- 
ters that  he  disliked  breaking  up  their  pleasant  enjoyment, 
but  as  they  had  several  miles  to  go,  it  was  time  to  leave. 

Mr.  Gray  remarked  that  as  it  was  nearer  to  his  house, 
they  had  better  stay  a  while  longer,  and  then  spend  the 
night  with  him ;  but  the  girls  gave  their  reasons  for 
refusing,  and  thanked  him.  Miss  Gray  had  joined  her 
father  in  the  invitation,  but,  understanding  the  nature  of 
such  things,  only  insisted  on  their  coming  over  to  church 
on  next  Sunday,  and  to  come  prepared  to  spend  some  time 
with  her.  These  invitations  were  reciprocal,  but  not  de- 
finitely appointed,  by  either. 

Old  Mr.  Gray  gave  a  particular  invitation  to  Henry 
Brandon  to  visit  him  at  any  time,  as  the  young  people 
would  see  to  it  that  his  time  should  be  spent  agreeably. 

Carriages  and  vehicles  of  all  kinds,  and  horses,  were 
moving  around  as  in  preparation  for  going,  and  our  com- 
pany of  gay  young  people  had  already  begun  to  take  leave 
of  each  other,  when  Henry  Brandon,  lingering  a  little  in 
the  rear,  said  to  Miss  Gray,  in  his  original  vein  of  humor, 
that  if  there  was  no  likelihood  of  her  coming  over  to  the 
church,  he  thought  it  quite  probable  that  he  would  go  over 
to  her  meeting-house. 


BLOOM     AND     B  K  I  E  R  .  137 

In  his  own  strain,  she  replied  that  since  first  making  her 
negative  assertion,  she  had  felt  some  faltering  of  resolution, 
and  by  the  time  he  came  to  "  Walnut  Hill,"  she  would  give 
him  a  more  definite  answer. 

"In  the  mean  while,"  she  added  coquettishly,  "I  will 
refer  you,  by  way  of  hope  in  your  evangelizing  effort,  to 
the  answer  of  Ruth  to  Naomi." 

At  this,  they  shook  hands  very  cordially,  and  separated 
to  meet  no  more  for  many  years. 

Mr.  Brandon,  after  getting  his  company  well  on  the  way 
home,  came  along  in  the  rear,  that  day  riding  in  his  sulky; 
but  finding  them  disposed  to  loiter,  drove  on  to  the  front, 
and  before  very  long  had  left  them  entirely. 

Thomas  Hunter,  being  compelled  to  go  to  his  own  home 
that  evening,  had  made  the  suggestion  to  the  gentlemen  of 
the  party  to  spend  the  night  ^vith  him,  at  his  "  Bachelor's 
Hall,"  just  by  way,  as  he  said,  of  giving  them  an  idea  of 
how  "housekeeping"  should  be  done.  The  proposition 
was  accepted,  and  when  they  reached  the  road  that  turned 
off  to  his  plantation,  he  informed  the  young  ladies  of  this 
intention,  and  also  that  they  would  accompany  them  no 
farther.  The  young  gentlemen  now  strung  along  among 
the  carriages,  and,  as  Henry  Brandon  said,  had  "quite  a 
parting  talk  with  their  lady-loves." 

Mr.  Jerome  and  Dr.  Wilton  were  at  the  carriage  of  Misa 
Hunter,  in  conversation  with  Miss  Julia  and  with  jNIiss 
Morton. 

Thomas  Hunter  was  at  the  carriage  of  Violet  Brandon, 
talking  in  an  undertone  to  her  about  their  own  private 
affairs  —  while  Henry  Brandon  and  Mr.  Campbell  were 
at  the  carriage  of  Laura  and  Lucy,  each  of  the  girls  with 
their  heads  a  little  out  of  the  carriage  on  their  resijective 
sides,  talking  to  their  separate  admirers,  and  so  intent,  as 
not  to  pay  the  least  attention  to  the  other. 

In  reply  to  some  excuse  which  Henry  Brandon  had  just 
1-2  * 


138  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

made  to  Laura;  for  something  he  had  said  to  Miss  Gray, 
Laura  said  to  him  : 

"  Ah  !  cousin,  I  shall  find  it  difficult  to  forgive  you.  You 
openly  asserted  that  you  had  ahvays  been  an  admirer  of 
mine,  but  had  become  divided  in  your  feelings." 

"  Pshaw,  Laura !  you  know  I  had  to  say  something 
pleasant  to  the  daughter,  after  her  very  respectable  old 
father  had  put  himself  to  the  trouble  of  talking  to  me  in 
that  /a??ii7]/-like  sort  of  way,  and  I  thought  a  little  love- 
making  just  the  thing  to  meet  the  case  ;  did  n't  you  see  how 
well  it  was  received?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  I  saw  it  all,  and  don't  think  it  was  all  fun  on 
either  side  —  rather  think  you  will  be  going  over  to  'Meth- 
odist meetin','  as  you  call  it,  before  very  long.  Will  you 
allow  me  to  go  with  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  certainly  I  will;  but  Laura,  you  don't  know  the 
masculine  gender  very  thoroughly,  if  you  don't  know  that 
I  could  not  help  loving  as  handsome  a  girl  as  she  is,  some. 
And  then  that  dash  of  wit  and  deviltry,  when  out  of  sight 
of  the  old  man  Methodist,  should  be  encouraged.  I  think 
we  might  proselyte  her :  what  think  you  of  that  ? " 

"  Yes,  that  would  all  be  very  well,  if  you  had  not  ex- 
pressed such  a  willingness  to  he  proselyted  yourself." 

"Ah!  these  were  mere  idle  words.  I  could  very  well 
afford  to  fall  a  little  in  love  with  so  pretty  a  heretic,  but 
you  know  I  could  never  go  back  to  her  idolatry.  But  my 
dear  Laura,  I  have  a  charge  to  bring  against  you  too,  which 
is,  that  unasked,  yea,  even  begged  by  the  young  lady  her- 
self not  to  do  so,  you  really  did,  with  evident  bad  temper, 
give  me  away  —  remember  that,  fair  lady  !  " 

"  Ah !  two  bites  at  a  cherry  is  an  obsolete  idea,  nor  do  I 
know  how  to  divide  a  hair  'twixt  south  and  southwest 
side." 

"Truly,  Laura,  your  literary  references  are  absolutely 
odious  —  desist,  I  pray  you,  unless  you  wish  to  see  me 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  139 

dwindle  to  the  size  of  passing  through  the  eye  of  a  needle 
with  safety  —  just  perish  away  under  their  influence." 

*'  They  suit  the  subject  most  opportunely,"  said  she,  lau'^-li- 
ing,  "and  I  have  more  of  just  such  at  my  tongue's  end, 
when  occasion  shall  occur  again  for  their  use." 

"  Then  you  will  forget  them,  for  by  all  the  gods  of  Olym- 
pus I  declare  unto  you,  that  there  shall  never  be  the  same 
fault  found  with  me  again,  in  jest  or  otherwise." 
"  Very  well,  we  shall  see." 

"Why,  Laura,  after  that  penitent  speech,  I  expected 
you  to  receive  me,  with  open  arms,  into  your  favor  again, 
or  as  the  Baptists  say,  into  full  fellowship ;  but  your  reluct- 
ance rather  shows  that  you  have  fairly  turned  the  tables 
on  Othello." 

"Who  — what?" 
"  Nobody  —  nothing." 

"  I  am  glad  you  made  that  retraction  to  your  last  speech." 
"So  am  I, since  I  see  the  personal  danger  I  was  about  to 
incur." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  Laura  had  rested 
her  hand  on  the  window-sill  of  the  carriage,  and  Henry 
Brandon  taking  it  up,  just  as  he  finished  his  last  remark, 
said :  "  A  truce  to  that ;  now  tell  me,  my  lady,  who  gave 
thee  this  ring? " 

"I  will,  most  noble  sir;  it  was  the  gift  in  girlhood's 
merry  years  of  a  generous,  rattling,  but  1  fear  me,  now,  a 
truant  boy." 

"  Hast  thou  never  displaced  it  since  that  generous,  rat- 
tling boy  did  place  it  there  ?  " 
"  Never." 

"  Then  it  seemeth  unto  me  that  this  generous,  wandering' 
boy  did  love  thee,  in  thy  young  girlhood,  and  that  the 
merry  girl  did  somewhat  love  that  boy." 

Blushing  deeply  for  an  answer,  she  replied :  "  Perhapa 
thou  didst  know,  fair  sir,  the  little  boy  ?  " 


140  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

"  Yes,  I  do  remember  a  little  lad  who  once  did  tell  me 
the  little  story  of  his  heart.  It  is  many  years  ago,  and  if 
I  now  can  tell  the  story  as  it  was  told  to  me,  it  was  that  he 
did  deeply  love  his  cousin,  and  something  tells  me  that  if 
the  noble  girl  is  true  to  the  little  maid  —  the  man  still  loves 
as  loved  the  boy."  Then  raising  her  beautiful  hand  to  his 
lips,  said:  "Let  that  wanderer  wander  whither  he  will,  his 
heart  untravelled  still  fondly  turns  to  thee — "and.laugh- 
ing  a  joyous,  happy  sort  of  laugh,  said:  "Now  you  under- 
stand me,  good-by." 

Blushing  and  trembling,  with  her  soft  blue  eyes  swim- 
ming in  unbidden  tears,  she  sweetly  said :  "  Good-by." 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  all  on  their  separate  ways. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

"Devotion  wafts  the  mind  above, 
But  heaven  itself  descends  in  love." 

Bykox. 

THEY  had  driven  but  a  short  distance  after  parting 
with  their  young  beaux,  when  Lucy,  who  had  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  "  good-by  "  scene  between  Laura  and  Henry 
Brandon,  said  to  her  sister  : 

"Laura,  what  new  extravagance  was  that  of  cousin 
Henry's,  as  he  bid  you  good-by  ? " 

"  I  scarcely  know,  Lucy :  he  says  and  does  so  many  odd 
things." 

Lucy  now  discovered  that  her  sister  had  been  shedding 
tears,  and  said: 

"Why, Laura,  I  really  believe  you  have  been  crying." 

At  this  Laura  began  afresh  a  sort  of  mixed  hysterical 
laugh  and  cry,  without  making  a  reply.  Lucy  again  laughed, 
and  asked  what  wais  the  matter,  but  her  sister  still  remained 


BLOOM    AXD     BRIER.  141 

silent ;  and  now,  with  her  liand  to  her  face,  continued  the 
same  hysteric  sobbing.  At  length,  Lucy  still  urging  her  to 
tell  the  cause  of  her  excitement,  she  said :  "  Lucy,  I  have 
never  belbre  kept  a  secret  from  you,  or  from  mother ;  but 
this  I  have  never  told  to  either,  for  my  heart  shrinks  from 
its  exposure." 

"Xow,  that  I  know  that  you  have  something  at  your 
heart  that  gives  you  trouble,  I  cannot  bear  you  to  keep  it 
from  me :  does  it  relate  to  cousin  Henry  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Lucy,  it  does." 

"Have  you  become  displeased  with  him  in  any  way?" 

"No,  far  from  it — how  could  you  think  that?" 

"  I  really  think  nothing  Laura,  as  I  know  nothing,  and 
only  asked  the  question  because  your  tears  were  so  unex- 
pected." 

"I  have  desired  to  tell  you,  Lucy,  before  this,  somethino* 
of  my  feelings;  but  my  cheek  would  so  burn  with  woman \s 
delicacy,  that  my  heart  would  fail ;  but  now  I  will  tell  you, 
cost  me  what  it  will  to  do  so.  I  must  tell  you,  or  my  poor 
heart  will  break  —  first,  promise  never  to  reveal  it." 

"  I  certainly  promise  you,  sister,  never  to  do  so  without 
your  leave." 

Laura  then,  hesitatingly,  began  the  first  sad  story  of  her 
life,  by  asking  Lucy  if  she  remembered,  when  they  were 
children,  that  she  would  often  attempt  to  tease  her  by  call- 
ing their  cousin  Henry  her  sweetheart,  and  with  what 
resentment  she  would  tell  her,  that  she  did  not  care  if  he 
was." 

"Yes,  very  well,"  and  at  once  catching  at  Laura's  story, 
said — "I  believed  so  then,  and  I  believe  so  now;"  saying 
this  with  a  certain  tone  of  voice,  which  at  once  secured  not 
only  Laura's  confidence,  but  gave  her  assurance  of  good 
feeling  and  sympathy. 

"  Little  girl  as  I  was,  I  was  really  not  conscious  of  it  being 
that  feeling  which  I  aftei^ard  knew  it  to  be — love  —  yes, 


142  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

love,  Lucy ;  I  have  spoken  it  now,  the  first  time  in  my  life. 
You  will  remember  too,  that  he  gave  me  this  ring  on  the 
evening  before  he  left  for  college ;  and  at  the  time  he  gave 
it,  he  asked  me  to  remember  him,  which  I  promised  to  do. 
This  you  did  not  know,  as  I  did  not  tell  you ;  but  you  do 
know  that  we  corresponded  somewhat  irregularly  all  the 
while  during  his  absence.  This  correspondence  was  based 
on  that  mutual  obligation,  and  at  our  first  meeting  after  his 
return,  though  it  assumed  so  ludicrous  a  form,  I  somehow 
felt  that  I  would  be  called  on,  either  to  fulfil  the  purpose 
of  the  promise,  or  to  forever  give  it  up.  This  evening  he 
referred  to  both  directly,  and  told  me  that  his  feelings  to- 
ward me  now,  were  still  as  they  then  were.  He  said  no  more, 
but—" 

"What?" 

Shrinking  for  a  moment  from  the  confession,  she  at  length 
said  : 

"  But  my  heart  is  his,  has  always  been  —  can  never  be 
another's.  There  Lucy,"  she  continued,  "you  have  the 
cherished  secret  of  my  life,  from  girlhood  till  now  ;  and  the 
beginning,  too,  of  my  life-trouble ;  but  the  pleasure  has  been 
mine,  let  the  sorrow  be  too." 

"  But,  Laura,  he  did  not  tell  you  that  he  loved  you,  did 
he?" 

"  Only  as  I  have  told  you,  Lucy." 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  to  let  your  feelings  bear  you  along 
so  recklessly  ?  Cousin  Henry  is  a  noble  young  fellow  —  in 
mind,  in  character,  and  in  person ;  but  you  must  remember, 
even  when  a  boy,  and  while  at  college,  he  was  known  to  be 
wild  and  eccentric,  and  as  we  all  see,  is  quite  so  disposed 
even  yet ;  and  may  not  settle  himself,  but  wander  oflT,  and 
forget  you." 

"  Yes,  Lucy,  I  am  aware  of  all  you  say,  yet  am  not 
afraid ;  nor  can  I,  if  I  would,  break  the  chain  which  has 
bound  my  whole  life.    I  have  no  fear  of  his  truth,  his  honor, 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  143 

or  his  eccentricities  :  nature  never  lavishes  such  gifts  ay  his 
on  unworthy  objects,  and  as  seldom,  I  fancy,  bestows  them 
without  some  commensurate  design.  With  his  mind  and 
heart,  there  is  nothing  human  to  fear ;  and  he  will  be  a 
man  of  mark  when  the  proper  time  arrives — and  come  it 
will — when  the  cautious,  plodding,  censorious  characters, 
who  in  their  very  littleness  may  condemn  him,  shall  have 
faded  from  mortal  memorj^"  Seeming  to  acquire  confidence 
from  her  own  words,  she  raised  her  head  and  said  —  "  That 
which  the  world  calls  eccentricity  in  men  of  mind,  and  of 
known  probity  of  heart,  is  but  little  else  than  a  species  of 
the  mind's  own  recreation,  before  the  appointed  time  and 
occasion  have  come  for  its  normal  action.  You  see  I  fear 
nothing  so  far  as  he  is  concerned ;  but  what  I  do  fear,  is  the 
very  probable  course  of  our  mother.  Whether  it  is  imagina- 
tion or  not,  I  have  always  thought  she  suspected  some  sort 
of  feeling  between  Henry  Brandon  and  myself;  and,  as  you 
have  often  heard  her,  has  ever  expressed  herself  in  very 
strong  terms  against  the  marriage  of  cousins.  Of  late  she 
has  been  more  pointed  than  ever — so  much  so,  that  he  as 
well  as  myself  must  know  her  feelings." 

"  But  Laura,"  said  Lucy,  attempting  to  laugh,  "  suppose 
he  should  say  nothing  more  to  you  about  this  ?  " 

*•  Oh !  my  sister,  do  not  torture  me,  do  not  speak  thus.  I 
am  not  afraid,  I  know  him  better  than  you  all  ;  my  heart 
it  is  that  guides  me ; "  then  passionately  clasping  her 
hands,  she  continued,  "  my  soul  —  the  very  essence  of  my 
being,  leads  me  to  trust  him,  and  I  do ;  there  is  no  power 
within  myself,  or  in  any  other,  which  can  shake  this  con- 
fidence—  'tis  fate !  'tis  my  life,  or  't  is  death,  and  all,  per- 
haps ! " 

With  these  impassioned  words  she  caught  her  sister  round 
the  neck,  and  in  tears  of  real  grief  gave  her  swelling  heart 
relief. 

"  Oh,  Laura,  Laura !  you  must  not  give  way  to  your  feel- 


144  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

ings  in  this  manner ;  there  may  be  fewer  difficulties  than 
you  apprehend." 

*'  No,  Lucy,  the  difficulties  are  greater  even  than  I  have 
expressed.  My  heart  could  not  ache  as  it  does,  unless  its 
very  life  was  at  stake ;  and  I  tell  you  that  Henry  Brandon 
is  as  near  to  me  now  as  he  will  ever  be,  and  yet  the  hope 
is  dearer  to  me  than  life  itself." 

"Come,  sister,  you  grieve  me  by  this  wildness,  this 
frenzy ! " 

"  Yes,  Lucy,  I  must,  and  I  almost  frighten  myself." 

At  this,  they  both  ceased  talking ;  but  Laura  continued 
to  rest  her  head  upon  her  sister's  shoulder,  and  to  sob.  This 
violent  expression  of '  grief  soon  brought  its  own  relief. 
Then  raising  her  head,  and  looking  her  sister  timidly  in  the 
face,  she  said  —  "  Forgive  me  for  this,  Lucy." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Lucy,  smiling ;  "  but  you  must  learn 
to  restrain  your  feelings  more,  and  work  the  harder  for 
them." 

The  remainder  of  the  road  was  passed  over  in  silence. 
They  all  reached  Mr.  Robert  Brandon's  in  good  time,  and 
separated  with  mutual  congratulations  for  the  pleasant  time 
they  had  enjoyed. 


CHAPTER    XXIL 

"  When  I  said  I  would  die  a  bachelor,  I  did  not  think  I  should  live 
till  I  were  married." 

ON  the  return  of  Thomas  Hunter  from  college,  his  father 
^  had  placed  him  in  possession  of  a  very  superb  plan- 
tation which  had  already  been  assigned  to  him,  with  an 
ample  number  of  able  negroes,  and  every  facility  for  con- 
ducting a  large  planting  business  with  ease  and  success. 
Few  young  planters  had  ever  begun  life  with  more  flattering 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  145 

assurances  of  success,  pleiisantncss,  and  usefulness.  With 
aristocratic  opinions  tempered  into  good  sense  and  feeling, 
by  the  generous  and  chivalric  instincts  of  the  Southern 
gentleman,  his  tastes,  habits,  and  circumstances  refuted 
every  charge  which  it  afterwards  became  popular  to  make 
in  slanderous  newspapers,  pseudo  romances,  and  tracts, 
falsely  pretending  to  morality  and  philanthropy,  against 
Southern  planters,  as  a  class.  We  no  more  pretend  to  say, 
however,  that  every  man  who  made  cotton  was  of  this 
stamp,  than  we  would  assert  every  man  in  the  North  to 
have  been  a  Southern  slanderer  or  abolitionist.  We  write 
of  Southern  society  and  not  of  individuals,  selecting  only 
such  of  the  latter  as  represented  the  former. 

As  Hunter  rode  up  to  his  gate,  he  was  met  by  his  house 
servants,  who  had  been  anxious  in  regard  to  his  continued 
absence,  and  a  man-servant  with  a  retinue  of  stable-boys 
received  "  Sara  Brandon,"  and  the  horses.  The  house  was 
flung  open  immediately,  and  presented  a  most  inviting 
appearance  of  pleasantness  and  comfort.  The  house  itself 
was  of  the  cottage  order,  with  verandas  extending  on  all 
sides,  with  transverse  passages  running  through,  and  inter- 
secting at  the  centre  of  the  building,  thus  arranged  for  the 
benefit  of  shade  and  breeze  durino-  the  lono;  Southern  sum- 
mer.  It  was  elegantly  furnished,  but  furnished  with  espe- 
cial reference  to  comfort  and  abandon.  Hammocks,  rock- 
ing-chairs, and  lounges  were  scattered  through  all  the  rooms. 

Fresh  water,  a  bottle  of  good  wine,  and  a  box  of  cigars 
were  soon  placed  on  the  side-board  for  general  use.  When 
Hunter  saw  his  young  friends  distributed  according  to  their 
own  inclinations,  and  at  perfect  ease,  he  asked  to  be  excused 
for  a  short  while,  as  he  wished  to  see  his  "driver"  before 
night,  and  asked  Henry  Brandon  to  act  as  major  domOj 
during  his  absence." 

"  Yes,  go  along,  Tom,  I  '11  see  that  matters  are  adminis- 
tered secundum  artem ;  for  instance,  1  will  take  charge  of 
13 


146  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

the  wine  and  cigars,  while  Mr.  Jerome  will  see  that  the 
water  is  not  left  all  unhonored." 

Hunter  in  leaving  the  house  passed  by  the  kitchen,  and 
seeing  old  "  Aunt  Jinny,"  his  chief  of  cuisine  ordnance, 
told  her  to  have  one  of  her  very  best  suppers,  but  not  to 
let  it  come  in  before  nine  o'clock. 

"Yes,  Mass  Tom,  lunderstans  zactly  what  you  wants  — 
you  wants  a  supper  for  young  gentlemen  —  need'n'  trouble 
youself  'bout  it  no  mo'."  It  was  not  long  before  the  old 
woman  could  be  seen  stirring  round  most  industriously, 
gathering  up  a  suitable  corps  of  assistants,  and  ordering 
them  up  to  proper  quarters,  with  an  authority  which  showed 
the  importance  with  which  she  invested  the  occasion,  and 
a  determination  to  meet  it  as  became  an  official  of  her 
reputation. 

This  was  the  last  of  Hunter's  attention  in  that  direction. 
In  passing  about,  the  old  woman  at  one  time  parsed  in  full 
view  of  Henry  Brandon,  who  remarked : 

"  Gentlemen,  as  Hunter  is  not  here,  I  will  discuss  his 
cook.  *  Old  Aunt  Jinny'  is  famous  among  us  all,  as  one 
of  the  best  cooks  on  the  globe.  If  you  get  a  full  view  of 
her  face,  you  could  almost  fancy  yourselves  eating  broiled 
chicken,  broiled  ham,  mutton  chops,  hot  rolls,  and  wafers  ; 
and  drinking  as  fine  a  cup  of  tea  or  coffee  as  was  ever 
drawn  in  Pekin,  or  sipped  by  the  Sultan." 

"Stop,  Mr.  Brandon,"  said  Dr.  Wilton,  "or  you  will 
excite  both  my  hunger  and  thirst." 

"  Very  well,  we  will  let  supper  elaborate  the  remainder 
of  her  virtues." 

At  nine  o'clock,  old  Aunt  Jinny's  virtues  spoke  for  them- 
selves, in  such  a  supper  as  only  a  Southern  planter  can  set, 
and  only  an  old  slave  cook  could  prepare.  The  whole 
negro  race  have  a  genius  for  the  cook-pot.  But  alas!  for 
Northern  philanthropy,  and  Northern  statesmanship !  To- 
gether they  have  destroyed  the  best  cooks  of  the  worlds 


BLOOM     AND     B  K  1  E  II .  147 

and  the  most  benevolent  system  of  cookino:,  on  the  earth  ; 
and  what  is  more,  destroyed  the  kindly  ties  between  the  negro 
and  the  only  true  friend  the  negro  race  has  ever  had  —  the 
Southern  white  man.  And  now,  in  September,  1869,  we  in- 
quire in  all  earnestness,  what  is  to  be  the  result?  Leaving 
out  all  considerations  of  interest,  we  ask  with  the  liveliest 
apprehension  what  good  effect  on  the  course  of  society  the 
extension  to  him  of  suffrage  can  possibly  produce  ?  While 
all  well-ordered  governments  strive  to  restrain  suffrage  to  a 
proper  representation  of  the  material  interests  of  society, 
ours  has  sought  out  the  most  ignorant  and  impecunious  class 
upon  which  to  confer  that  dangerous  privilege.  Suffrage  is 
no  ?2a^wra/ right  —  it  is  a  privilege  growing  out  of  property, 
and  property  grows  out  of  civilization.  All  civil  wars  very 
soon  result  in  its  extension —  it  is  an  effort  of  each  leader  to 
secure  the  masses ;  and  there  is  no  surer  indication  of  a 
people  being  in  the  high  road  of  revolution,  than  to  see  them 
extending  this  power  to  the  lower  classes,  who  can  possibly 
have  no  rights  of  the  sort ;  and  none  have  ever  secured 
peace,  until  it  was  wrenched  back  from  them  in  some 
manner. 

This  fact  is  universal  history,  and  at  this  age  of  en- 
lightenment should  have  prevented  a  recourse  to  it.  In 
our  own  especial  case,  the  man  upon  w^hom  it  has  been 
conferred  belongs  directly  to  a  heathen  race.  This  fact,  to- 
gether with  his  former  condition  of  slave,  and  his  universal 
ignorance  with  his  natural  imbecility,  even  without  the 
power  of  suffrage,  is  calculated  to  engender  an  alienation 
between  him  and  the  white  man  ;  but  with  it,  to  make  him 
an  aggressor  upon  the^ociety  which  is  superior  to  him,  and 
upon  the  property  of  which  he  has  none,  and  cannot  have. 
He  knows  not  how  else  to  use  this  dangerous  weapon : 
ignorance,  idleness,  and  poverty  drive  him  into  this  posi- 
tion. Instead  of  being  told  the  real  cause  of  his  freedom, 
whether  a  good  one  or  not,  and  that  it  was  a  penalty  to  the 


148  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

white  master  for  some  great  violation  of  law,  he  is  told 
that  it  was  a  special  interposition  of  Providence  in  his  be- 
half, through  the  intercession  of  the  North.  This  at  once 
gives  him  a  most  bloated  idea  of  his  importance,  and  he 
immediately  falls  into  the  most  superstitious  worship  on 
account  of  it.  He  next  looks  upon  himself  as  one  of  the 
children  of  Israel,  as  he  understands  it,  and  upon  the  whole 
South  as  his  Canaan,  of  which  he  wants  immediate  posses- 
sion ;  and  through  theft  and  suffrage  strives  to  get  it.  He  is 
led  to  believe  by  his  present  friends  that  his  past  slavery 
has  been  a  great  wrong ;  never  once  seeing  that  if  he  is  as 
improved  as  he  thinks  himself,  that  it  is  altogether  owing 
to  the  only  man  whom  he  is  taught  to  hate,  and  to  injure  if 
possible.  He  is  never  told  that  but  few  years  since,  as  it 
were,  he  was  brought  to  our  homes,  through  all  the  horrors 
of  the  "middle  passage,"  by  the  humanitarians  of  Old 
and  of  New  England,  and  wreaked  upon  us  in  his  bestial 
heathenism;  and  that  his  race  is  still  besotted  in  the  lowest 
form  of  paganism  and  cannibalism  in  its  own  laud.  No, 
these  facts  are  most  tenderly  kept  from  him,  while  he  i^ 
being  taught  to  believe  his  superiority  to  us,  and  urged  to 
every  species  of  aggression.  The  upper  classes  of  the  North 
may  plead  —  or  wish  to  —  ignorance  of  these  wretched  facts, 
but  they  cannot.  There  are  paid  hirelings  —  paid  by  the 
Government,  in  the  shape  of  preachers,  teachers.  Congress- 
men, etc.  —  of  both  sexes,  from  their  midst,  who  associate 
with  negroes  of  the  lowest  character,  assemble  with  them 
at  their  Congo  celebrations,  join  with  them  in  their  miser- 
able worship,  on  terms  of  perfect  equality,  and  urge  them 
on.  What,  we  ask,  is  to  be  the  result  of  this  on  American 
society  ?  Thousands  upon  tens  of  thousands  of  men  and 
women,  who  were  once  orderly,  well-behaved,  and  engaged 
in  the  useful  pursuits  of  life,  are  now  wandering  thieves, 
keepers  of  dirty  shops,  peddlers  of  stolen  goods,  hucksters 
of  filthy  fruit,  street- walkers,  idlers,  and  vagabonds ;  while 


BLOOM     AND     BHIEU.  149 

their  children  are  growing  up  around  us  in  idleness,  vaga- 
bondism, and  lewdness.  And  yet  these  are  the  chosen  suf- 
fragans of  a  ^aWy  which  aspires  to  the  control  of  American 
nationality.  Men  and  women  of  the  North,  can  you  blame 
the  South  for  despising  you  ?  You  have  intelligence,  and 
know  better.  Why  do  you  persist  ?  "  Quousque  tandem 
abutere  nostra  paticntia." 

Property  is  the  basis  of  all  civilization,  even  as  it  is  the 
creature  of  civilization.  It  is,  therefore,  the  legitimate 
object  of  legislation  ;  and  there  should  be  no  legislation 
except  by  a  legislator  who  bases  his  right  to  that  position 
upon  his  relation  to  property:  all  other  is  spurious  —  and 
by  that  much  will,  must,  and  does  exert  a  harmful,  dan- 
gerous influence. 

There  is  a  natural  antagonism  between  property  and 
labor  —  it  is  the  very  law  of  labor  and  property;  but  still 
there  is  that  natural  relation  between  them  which  compels 
property  to  sustain  labor  well  up  to  a  working  point.  Any 
effort,  therefore,  whatever,  to  interfere  or  to  set  up  new 
theories  against  this  law,  but  by  that  much  disturbs  soci- 
ety. This  law,  blind,  strong,  muscular  labor  does  not  see, 
but,  consulting  its  own  instincts  of  force,  seeks  to  aggress, 
and,  whenever  and  by  whatever  accident  it  secures  polit- 
ical power,  never  fails  to  use  it  in  that  direction.  Give 
universal  labor  universal  suffrage,  and  it  at  once  organizes 
a  universal  attack  on  property  and  position.  The  largest 
liberty  and  the  greatest  ease  is  the  first  law  of  all  animal 
life;  but  under  the  laws  of  civilization  it  cannot  be 
granted,  and  we  but  give  way  to  a  miserable,  maudlin 
sentimentality  when  we  do  so. 

When  the  masses  acquire  suffrage,  there  is  but  one  power 
that  can  recover  it  from  them,  and  that  is  the  one-man 
POWER.     Let  us  wait. 

We  have  already  had  to  ask  pardon  for  so  many  digres- 
sions, that  it  would  seem  a  mocking  to  do  so  again ;  we 
13* 


150  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

shall  therefore  return  to  our  story,  without  apology,  by 
telling  the  reader  that  our  young  gentlemen  continued  to 
enjoy  themselves  as  we  have  seen  they  had  begun. 

At  the  appointed  hour,  the  supper  was  announced,  which 
they  passed  at  least  an  hour  in  the  enjoyment  of.  After 
this,  cigars  were  lit,  and  each  one  fixed  himself  for  his  own 
personal  ease. 

"  Tom,"  said  Henry  Brandon,  while  looking  around  the 
brilliantly  lighted  room  (it  was  Hunter's  library)  from 
the  lounge  upon  which  he  was  reclining,  and  puffing  at 
intervals  his  long-drawn  Havana,  "  you  really  live  in  as 
great  comfort  and  elegance  as  we  did  at  college ;  indeed  I 
believe  you  have  imitated  the  style"  —  meaning  this  as  a 
burlesque  allusion  to  college-life  —  and,  without  waiting 
for  a  reply,  said :  "  Oh,  Tom,  I  have  always  forgotten  to 
tell  you  that  I  am  your  banker  for  the  sum  of  twenty-five 
dollars — the  half  of  the  whole  amount  for  which  I  sold 
our  four-years'  furniture.  What  do  you  think  of  the  sale  ? " 
"  Oh,  excellent !  " 

"There  came  a  couple  of  very  nice  chaps,  to  be  ex- 
amined at  commencement,  for  the  purpose  of  getting 
choice  rooms,  I  suppose,  and  said  that  they  had  been 
informed  that  I  had  a  very  good  set  of  furniture  for  sale, 
as  I  was  going  out.  I  told  them  yes  ;  and,  showing  them 
every  article,  proposed  to  take  fifty  dollars  for  it,  rather 
than  peddle  it  off",  which  old  Grimes  had  already  proposed 
to  do  for  me.  They  took  me  up  at  a  word,  and  rather 
apologized  for  buying  second-hand  furniture  by  modestly 
saying  that  they  'were  not  very  flush  of  means,  as  the 
apple  and  onion  crops  had  both  failed  the  year  before ;  but 
as  ours  seemed  to  be  the  furniture  of  gentlemen,  they  did 
not  regard  it  much.'  I  was  so  well  pleased  with  the  boys, 
I  had  a  damned  —  excuse  me.  Parson  —  good  notion  to 
give  it  to  them,  and  would,  but  feared  it  might  hurt  their 
feelings;    while  I  knew  fifty  dollars  would  neither  hurt 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  151 

their  feelings  nor  their  purses.    Shall  I  pay  it  to  you  now? 
I  shall  never  think  of  it  again." 

"  No,  never  mind ;  just  add  it  to  what  you  have  owed 
me  all  along  for  four  years.  You  must  have  improved  in 
your  financial  memory.  You  owe  me  about  five  hundred 
beside,  I  think." 

"  The  devil  I  do  !     Then  what  did  I  do  with  mine? " 
"  Spent  it,  loaned  it,  and  gave  it  away  together." 
"  Ah  !  *  scandalum  magnatum '  —  from  first  to  last,  Tom. 
But  excuse  us,  gentlemen,  for  intruding  our  college  busi- 
ness upon  you." 

"  Oh,  we  have  been  quite  amused,"  said  Mr.  Jerome, 
"and  would  like  to  have  you  proceed  with  your  reminis- 
cences— it  reminds  me  of  my  own  glad  old  days." 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

"I  '11  talk  a  word  with  this  same  learned  Theban." 

MR.  CAMPBELL,"  asked  Henry  Brandon,  "were  you 
educated  at  a  Southern  college  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  at  William  and  Mary,  first,  and  afterward  at  the 
University." 

"  Did  you  attend  the  Law  School  at  the  latter  ? " 

**  Yes ;  I  graduated  there." 

"  Ah  !  then  —  according  to  Uncle  Robert  Brandon  —  I 
can  account  for  the  stringent  State  sovereignty  doctrine  I 
heard  you  express  this  evening.  He  says  that  all  South- 
ern schools  inculcate  that,  while  the  Northern  schools 
inculcate  the  Federal  doctrine." 

"  I  can't  say  that  that  is  my  reason  for  entertaining  it ; 
but  State  sovereignty  is  certainly  taught  there.     And  with 


152  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

all  deference  to  Mr.  Brandon,  1  can't  see  how  he  can  avoid 
believing  in  it,  if  he  acknowledges  this  to  be  a  confederate 
republic." 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  he  goes  very  far  with  that  doc- 
trine. I  have  not  studied  such  questions  with  any  great 
attention,  but  confess  my  instincts  do  not  go  very  far  in 
that  direction  either." 

Campbell  replied  that  he  had  been  educated  in  its  belief, 
and  very  sincerely  entertained  it. 

Campbell  belonged  to  that  style  of  young  men  who 
observe  all  the  polite  forms  of  social  intercourse,  leaving 
but  little  to  speculation,  doubt,  or  accident,  but  act  in 
accordance  with  all  established  prescriptions.  He  was 
generally  grave  and  dignified  in  his  deportment,  and  very 
respectful  in  his  manners  —  especially  to  those  from  whom 
he  expected  advancement.  Though  finely  educated,  he 
was  not  brilliant,  and  ventured  but  little  out  on  the  un- 
reckoned  seas  of  original  thought.  In  political  matters, 
therefore,  he  adopted  the  opinions  which  had  already  been 
raised  up  to  a  system  under  the  lead  of  men  whom  he  had 
already  chosen  to  follow,  and  who  had  already  been  suc- 
ceasful.  The  Democratic  ]3arty  furnished  these,  as  he 
thought,  and  he  had  thoroughly  identified  himself  with  it 
—  in  this,  following  the  lead  of  most  of  the  second-class 
intellect  of  that  day. 

Henry  Brandon,  on  the  other  hand  —  as  may  be  judged 
from  the  shadowy  indications  of  character  which  he  had 
only,  till  now,  thrown  out  —  was,  as  near  as  it  was  possible 
to  be,  the  opposite  of  this  —  considering  that  he  strictly 
observed  the  status  of  the  gentleman  in  all  his  antitheses. 
He  saw  through  and  ridiculed  the  Korhassan  veil  which 
ignorant  but  cunning  old  prigs  throw  around  the  altars  of 
public  aflTairs,  and  looked  at  them  just  as  they  were,  and 
spoke  as  he  thought,  with  nothing  more  than  common 
regard  for  that  almost  fiction  of  society,  yclept  "public 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  153 

opinion."  In  short,  he  was  just  such  a  young  man  as  seldom 
rises,  let  his  mind  be  what  it  will ;  attracting,  as  they  do, 
the  combined  attack  of  all  inferior  grades,  and  too  often 
falling  before  their  united  charge. 

For  many  long  years  the  Democratic  party,  almost  with- 
out interruption,  maintained  control  of  the  Government, 
and  had  at  length  become  strong  enough  to  shut  out  all 
the  first-class  talent  of  the  country ;  and  the  Government 
finally  fell  between  the  manipulations  of  Jacobinical,  fanat- 
ical charlatans  on  the  one  side,  and  a  class  of  second  and 
third  rate  politicians  on  the  other. 

The  histories  of  Mr.  Clay  and  Mr.  AVebster  are  illustra- 
tions of  this  assertion. 

''Then  you  are  in  favor  of  a  consolidated  government?" 
said  Campbell,  in  reply  to  the  remarks  of  Brandon. 

"  No,  not  one  entirely  so ;  but  even  such  an  one  is  pref- 
erable to  this  slack-twisted  affair,  with  an  everlasting  tend- 
ency to  revolution,  civil  wars,  and  all  manner  of  State 
deviltries." 

"  In  what  manner  would  you  propose  to  avoid  such  ?  " 

"Well,  I  propose  to  avoid  nothing;  but  if  I  had  the 
power,  I  would  very  materially  lengthen  the  Executive  term, 
from  four  years  to  twenty,  or  life  ;  limit  State  legislation  to 
matters  strictly  local,  and,  first  and  last  of  all,  I  should 
confine  suffrage  to  native  citizens,  with  a  good  property 
qualification.     Those  are  my  present  ideas." 

Campbell  replied  that  he  had  been  taught  to  believe  the 
people  should  all  have  suflTrage,  and  that  they  were  capable 
of  self-government. 

"  The  people !  I  am  very  much  afraid  of  the  people. 
The  American  people  are  no  better  than  other  people; 
and  the  people,  whenever  they  get  hold,  never  let  go  until 
everything  goes  to  the  devil.  It  has  ever  been  so,  and  I 
expect  will  ever  be."  After  some  further  running  conver- 
sation of  this  sort,  Brandon  said :  "  But  come,  Mr.  Camp- 


154  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

bell,  I  am  no  politician,  and  perhaps  am  in  error  about 
these  matters  —  let  us  listen  to  these  gentlemen,  who  appear 
to  have  up  a  pleasanter  subject." 

At  this  moment,  Mr.  Jerome  said  to  Hunter  that  he 
might  urge  his  suit  on  Miss  Morton ;  but  whenever  he 
mentioned  the  subject — rather  alluded  to  it  —  she  always 
raised  the  Church  subject,  and  rather  accused  him  of  heresy, 
which  looked  a  little  like  a  disinclination  to  listen  to  his 
lackadaisicals,  and  forced  him  to  maintain  the  pastor  at 
the  expense  of  the  sighing  lover. 

"  Ah !  she  is  just  trying  your  earnestness,"  said  Hunter, 
laughing.  "  I  know  all  about  Sally's  church  feeling ;  and 
she  cares  about  as  much  for  the  Baptists  as  I  do  for 
Mohammedanism.  She  joined  the  Church  from  some  old 
family  association,  just  after  her  father's  death.  But  Bap- 
tist or  not,  she  would  make  an  elegant  Church  woman. 
There  is  scarcely  such  another  girl  to  be  found.  I  rather 
promised  to  be  her  chevalier,  when  we  were  young  folks ; 
but  when  I  came  back  from  college,  a  few  months  ago,  she 
laughed  at  the  idea.  But  then  you  had  been  visiting  her, 
Parson,  and  I  ahvays  thought  you  had  something  to  do 
with  that  laugh." 

"  Oh,  no !  Let  me  assure  you  that  I  have  never  been 
encouraged  to  get  in  any  one's  way.  It  was  only  your 
native  modesty.  She  is  certainly  a  very  superior  girl,  and 
I  admire  her  greatly." 

"  Yes,  I  will  vouch  for  the  Parson's  admiration,"  said 
Dr.  Wilton.  "Miss  Morton  is  his  constant  theme.  We 
can  seldom  converse  on  any  subject,  however  foreign, 
longer  than  twenty  minutes,  before  he  makes  a  quotation 
from  Miss  Morton.  I  tell  him  it  is  fast  getting  to  be  a 
Hamlet  case." 

"  Ah !  the  matter  is  indeed  getting  to  be  a  melancholy 
one.  Quotations  are  a  sure  indication  that  the  virus  has 
taken,"  said  Hunter. 


B  L  O  O  M    A  X  D    B  R  I  E  R  .  155 

At  this  moment,  Henry  Brandon  rose  to  get  a  fre^h 
cigar,  when  he  remarked  to  Hunter  that  he  had  not  yet 
played  his  Goldsmith  role,  and  he  was  getting  anxious  to 
have  it  over  with. 

Hunter  comprehended  the  allusion,  and  replied  :  "  Yes, 
you  always  badger  me  into  playing  for  you,  by  scandal- 
izing me." 

Henry  Brandon  explained  to  the  company  that  Hunter's 
friends  used  to  say  that  fluting  would  some  day  be  his  ^ro- 
Jession ;  "  but,"  added  he,  "  I  believe  Judge  Hunter  has 
provided  against  this  extremity,  for  a  few  days,  at  least, 
judging  from  the  present  surroundings.  But,  never  mind, 
play  for  us,  Hunter,  and  let  us  go  to  bed  under  the  influ- 
ence of  some  of  your  sweetest  old  airs." 

Hunter  gratified  him  by  doing  as  requested,  in  his  very 
best  style,  when  the  proposition  was  made  to  retire. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

"  But  earthly  hope,  how  bright  soe'er, 
Still  fluctuates  o'er  this  changing  scene. 
As  false  and  fleeting  as  't  is  fair." 

AFTER  their  friends  had  left,  on  the  evening  of  their 
return  from  the  spring,  Laura  and  Lucy  went  to 
their  own  chamber  to  rearrange  their  dresses ;  and  while 
there,  Laura  said : 

"  Lucy,  sister,  I  fear  you  will  think  I  transcended  the 
bounds  of — I  may  say  —  delicacy,  in  giving  way  to  my 
feelings  as  I  did  this  evening ;  and  perhaps  I  did ;  but  I 
could  not  restrain  them.  Something  came  over  me,  and  I 
had  to  let  you  know  my  feelings,  my  secret,  and  my  trouble. 
That  is  all  the  explanation  I  can  give." 

"Do  you  regret  having  done  so,  Laura?" 


156  'bloom    AND    BE  lER. 

"  No,  I  do  not ;  though  it  may  seem  premature  to  you." 

*'It  does  not  appear  as  premature  as  it  would  otherwise 
have  done,  had  not  Cousin  Henry  made  the  same  com- 
mittal to  me  last  night." 

"  Oh,  why  did  you  not  tell  me,  Lucy  ?  " 

"I  did  intend  doing  so  at  the  earliest  possible  oppor- 
tunity." 

"  What  did  he  say  to  you  ?  " 

"  Only  that  he  could  not  get  over  his  boy-feeling  for 
you,  and  that  he  intended  to  tell  you,  not  caring  whom  he 
offended.  He  did  it  in  his  usual  light  sort  of  way,  and  I 
would  not  encourage  it  until  I  knew  how"  you  felt ;  but 
asked  him  if  I  might  tell  you.  I  know,  however,  that  you 
always  had  some  sort  of  preference  for  him,  even  from  a 
boy,  and  of  late  I  have  been  satisfied  that  your  feelings 
were  really  involved." 

"Yes,  Lucy,  they  are  —  my  very  life  is  involved;  and 
yet  I  would  have  sacrificed  it  before  I  would  have  ex- 
pressed it  in  words,  had  it  not  been  for  what  he  said  to 
me  this  evening.     And  yet  I  knew  he  loved  me." 

Their  maid  now  announced  that  tea  w^as  waiting,  and 
the  two  girls  tripped  to  the  supper-room  with  as  much 
apparent  lightness  as  though  nothing  unusual  had  taken 
place.  Mrs.  Brandon  entered  into  the  conversation,  that 
immediately  began,  by  asking  her  daughters  how  they  were 
pleased  with  the  speaking,  saying,  "  You  know,  girls,  I  am 
compelled  to  feel  some  interest,  as  Colonel  Haywood  is  one 
of  the  most  accomplished  orators  in  the  South." 

"  Yes,  we  felt  all  the  apprehension  that  you  did ;  but  w^e 
very  soon  felt  every  confidence,  after  father  began ;  and  by 
the  time  he  had  concluded,  I  think  we  felt  very  proud." 
'  "  I  am  obliged  to  you,  my  daughter,"  said  Mr.  Brandon, 
laughing  very  pleasantly.  "How  did  you  think  I  sus- 
tained myself,  Laura  ? " 

"Most  admirably.     You  know  I  am  not  a  great  poll- 


BLOOM     AND    BRIER.  157 

tician,  and  could  not  judge  of  your  arguments ;  but  in 
chaste  eloquence  I  thought  you  excelled  Colonel  Haywood, 
and  so  Miss  Gray  expressed  herself." 

"But  do  you  think  your  opinions  impartial?" 

"I  do,"  said  Laura;  "and  yet  I  think  Colonel  Haywood 
deserves  his  reputation.  He  is  confident,  bold,  impassioned, 
and  quite  eloquent  at  times,  I  thought." 

"  Oh,  that  is  quite  a  compliment  to  us  both  ;  and  I  am 
obliged,  too,  to  your  beautiful  new  friend.  Miss  Gray.  But 
what  did  Mr.  Campbell  say,  Lucy?  You  know  he  is  a 
Democrat?" 

"  He  came  up  and  congratulated  me,  most  handsomely, 
on  your  effort,  and  I  think  was  quite  proud  to  be  seen  with 
me  afterward,"  said  she,  laughing. 

"Well,  how  did  Henry  Brandon  speak  of  the  affair? 
I  suppose  I  must  ask  you  that,  Laura." 

"  All,  he  is  such  a  Whig,  and  such  an  admirer  of  yours 
any  way,  that  he  was  willing  to  make  his  affidavy,  as  he 
called  it,  that  every  word  you  spoke  was  Promethean.'' 

"  Really,  I  must  like  the  wild,  rattling  lad  even  better 
than  ever." 

At  this  remark  from  her  father,  coupled  with  his  refer- 
ence to  her  for  the  answer,  a  ray  of  hope  and  gladness 
lighted  up  the  innocent  and  beautiful  face  of  Laura ;  and 
in  a  few  minutes  she  ventured  to  ask  him  when  her  cousin 
Henry  intended  leaving  the  country  for  his  law  studies. 

"  I  cannot  say ;  but  as  soon,  I  suppose,  as  he  gets  over 
his  home-romp  with  you  girls.  I  had  almost  thought  to 
ask  you  that,  my  daughter,  as  you  and  he  appear  quite 
confidential." 

Laura's  face  reddened  at  this,  but  with  an  effort  at  calm- 
ness she  replied  that  she  thought  he  had  made  a  very  fair 
division  of  his  time  and  confidence  between  all  his  friends. 

"  Up  to  last  night,  I  believe  he  had ;  but,  since  then,  I 
think  you  have  had  decided  advantage  of  us  all." 
14 


158  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"Are  you  not  laboring  under  a  misapprehension,  sir?" 

"No,  I  think  not.  Time  passes  without  note  between 
young  people  so  well  pleased  as  you  have  appeared  to  be 
to-day." 

"  Pleased !  Yes,  you  yourself  appear  pleased  with  the 
company  of  the  *  rattling  young  lad.'  Any  one  would  be 
who  had  any  relish  for  wit,  humor,  fancy,  and  fine  sense ; 
but  then  I  did  not  intend  to  engross  his  time.  I  did  not 
appear  desirous  of  doing  so,  did  I,  father  ?  " 

"  No,  no  ;  at  least  not  more  than  he  did  of  yours.  But 
then  there  was  clearly  a  very  high  zest  on  both  sides,  and 
you  managed  to  be  together  nearly  all  the  while  at  Mr. 
Gray's  carriage." 

"  Oh,  father,  you  should  not  say  that,  as  it  was  mere 
accident  that  placed  him  near  Miss  Gray  and  myself;  and 
you  could  not  have  expected  me  to  be  rude  enough  to  leave 
them ;  and  if  you  noticed  us,  you  certainly  saw  that  it  was 
to  her  that  he  directed  his  attentions.  By  the  way,  how- 
did  you  like  her  appearance?"  displaying  some  nervous- 
ness at  the  question  she  asked. 

"  I  thought  she  was  a  girl  of  fine  style,  and  very  fine 
face.     Did  she  seem  pleased  with  Henry  ?  " 

"  Very  decidedly ;  and  I  thought  old  Mr.  Gray  quite  as 
much  so." 

"It  would  be  an  excellent  family  for  Henry  to  get  into. 
The  old  man  has  a  way  of  making  people  fear  him ;  and 
that  is  all  that  Henry  requires  to  make  him  a  first-class 
man.     I  think  I  must  encourage  the  idea." 

Laura  had  watched  the  face  of  her  father,  through  all 
this  jesting  sort  of  conversation,  and  had  begun  to  think 
that  he  comprehended  her  feelings,  and  was  disposed  to 
favor  them  —  as  it  was  only  in  him  she  looked  for  a  friend; 
— but  the  last  remark  led  her  to  fear  that  he  was  entirely 
ignorant ;  and  the  pleasure  that  had  suffused  itself  over 
her  happy  face,  now  instantly  faded  away,  and  she  listlessly 
replied : 


HLOOM    AND    BRIKR.  159 

"  Yes,  I  made  Miss  Gray  a  present  of  him,  in  jest." 

Lucy,  seeing  the  change,  and  r(\>=:olving  to  sustain  her, 
said,  quickly,  "  But  I  thought  I  overheard  him  object  to 
your  doing  so." 

"  Yes,  he  jestingly  said  that  he  wished  me  to  retain  an 
interest  in  him." 

At  this  remark,  Mrs.  Brandon,  who  had  not  spoken  for 
some  time,  nor  had  seemed  so  well  pleased,  asked  why  he 
had  wished  her  to  retain  an  interest  in  him.  "  Had  you 
any  in  him,  Laura?  " 

"None,  more  than  of  cousin,  mother,"  she  softly  replied 
to  the  rather  sharp  question. 

"I  should  not  suppose  that  your  doin^that,  then,  would 
have  deprived  him  of  such  an  interest." 

Laura  saw  the  direction  of  her  mother's  words,  and  very 
prudently  made  no  further  answer.  She  knew  that,  what- 
ever there  was  of  antagonism  in  her  present  position  to  her 
mother's  wishes,  it  had  not  been  wantonly  entered  into,  but 
was  the  growth  of  years  and  circumstances  —  a  flow  of  feel- 
ing that  had  come  unbidden  as  the  wind,  and  swept  the 
strings  of  her  maiden  heart  even  from  its  girlhood-time. 
Mrs.  Brandon  was  an  unexceptional  woman  in  all  those 
kind,  generous,  and  self-sacrificing  qualities  that  made  her 
the  best  of  mothers ;  and  she  loved  her  daughters  as  her 
life.  Her  relations  too  with  Henry's  mother  had  ever  been 
of  the  most  pleasant  and  confidential  nature.  No  cloud, 
from  first  to  last,  had  ever  passed  over  their  intercourse  to 
darken  its  peacefulness.  Henry  himself,  from  earliest 
boyhood,  had  been  as  one  of  her  own  children.  She  had 
known  him  as  a  wild,  bold,  generous,  rambling,  uncontrol- 
lable sort  of  a  boy ;  yet  she  loved  him,  as  in  all  this  she 
knew  there  was  no  taint  —  that  these  qualities  belonged 
more  to  his  mind  than  his  heart,  more  to  his  genius  than 
his  disposition,  and  more  to  his  temperament  than  to  his 
character.     She   knew   that  with    all    this    there  was   no 


160  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

aggressiveness,  such  as  too  often  accompanies  these  char- 
acteristics. His  daring  and  recklessness  was  that  of  inno- 
cence, intending  no  wrong,  and  fearing  no  danger.  Know- 
ing these  things,  she  had  loved  him  —  could  but  love  him  ; 
yet  now,  she  feared  him,  as  a  husband  for  her  daughter ; 
but  above  all,  her  prejudice  against  the  intermarriage  of 
relations  could  not  be  overcome.  It  proved  to  be  ingrained 
with  her  very  life. 

This  last  Laura  had  found  out,  and  it  was  the  source 
of  her  greatest  anxiety.  Without  having  intended  it,  she 
found  herself  running,  counter  to  one  of  the  strongest  sen- 
timents of  her  mother,  and  saw  that  she  must  either  meet 
it,  or  prepare  to  sacrifice  herself. 

Here  was  to  be  the  great  conflict  of  her  life,  and  here 
rose  a  cloud  upon  the  early  morning  sky  that  was  to  drape 
in  darkness  and  sorrow,  the  bright  sunlight,  the  summer- 
joy,  of  one  whose  purity  of  soul  and  gentleness  of  heart, 
were  as  flowers  of  love  and  truth  flinging  around  frail 
humanity  the  freshness  of  their  fragrance  and  the  softness 
of  their  beauty.     The  conflict  came. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

"  For  virtue's  self  may  too  much  zeal  be  had ; 
The  worst  of  madmen  is  a  Saint  run  mad," 

HUNTER'S  guests  left  next  morning,  after  enjoying  an 
excellent  breakfast,  fresh  and  hot,  from  the  depart- 
ment -of  old  Aunt  Jinny.  Brandon  asked  Hunter  to  go 
over  home  with  him ;  but  the  latter  had  to  decline,  as  he 
had  already  sent  a  wagon  to  the  city,  for  the  purpose  of 
bringing  out  fall  supplies  of  clothing,  etc.,  for  his  negroes, 
and  must  meet  it. 


BLOOM     A  ND     HRI  ER.  IGl 

Ah,  ha!  Now  speak,  ye  tender  friends  of  the  "nation's 
wards,"  and  tell  us  who  of  ye,  on  this  loth  October,  1869, 
have  sent  your  wagon  for  supplies  of  clothing  for  these 
poor  creatures !  Answer,  ye  wrong-headed,  fanatical  phi- 
lanthropists, who  have  spent  your  lives  in  seeking  objects 
of  charity  beyond  your  own  bailiwicks,  while  numberless 
thousands  were  suffering  with  poverty  and  disease,  in 
abodes  of  wretchedness,  guilt,  and  shame,  within  your  ow^n 
limits !  Answer,  ye  tender-hearted  female  sentimentalists, 
who,  in  your  lecture  and  society  rooms,  have  writhed  and 
shrieked  in  vicarious  agonies  for  the  wrongs  of  the  South- 
ern negro,  thousands  of  miles  away,  while  the  daughters 
and  sons  of  your  own  wombs  were  rioting  in  assignation 
and  rolling  in  brothels  on  the  thoroughfares  of  your  own 
great  cities !  Answer,  ye  forked-tougued,  libellous  priest- 
hood, from  whose  loins  have  too  often  issued  the  spawn 
of  depravity,  bastardy  and  woe,  and  shame  and  poverty ! 
Yes,  answer !  Then  come  and  see  the  ruin  your  lying  has 
wrought  in  this  fair  land  of  the  South !  Bayonets  stand 
ready  to  protect  your  reply  and  your  shame.  Come,  and 
see,  and  answer !  Yes,  and  you  too  come,  oh,  immac- 
ulate statesmen  —  there  is  no  gallows  now  for  the  incen- 
diary, the  robber,  or  the  murderer  —  and  behold  your 
wisdom  and  your  prophecy  reflected  from  this  Southern 
mirror ! 

The  negro  h  free.  Let  him  be  free  forever.  We  would 
not  have  him  back.  The  charm  is  broken.  But  why  were 
u'e  slandered  and  reviled,  to  free  him  ?  Tell  us  that.  Was 
it  to  work  upon  our  feelings,  or  to  get  up  a  crusade  against 
U8  among  your  own  people  ?  What  is  it  that  so  pointed 
to  his  freedom,  that  w^e  should  still  be  persecuted  for  his 
slavery?  Was  it  his  color,  his  beauty,  his  morality,  or  his 
intelligence? 

Now,  remember,  ye  tender-souled  old  women,  ye  pious 
preachers,  ye  weeping  congregations,  ye  lying  tractarians, 
14* 


162  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

ye  slandering  romancists  —  and,  ay,  ye  jolly  fine  statesmen 
—  that  society,  life,  every  form  of  human  association  calls 
for  labor  and  the  laborer — that  in  these  Southern  States,  by 
a  peculiar  divinity,  were  the  best  provided,  the  least  worked, 
the  most  contented,  and  the  most  orderly  laborers  of  the 
world,  and  from  these  very  facts  had  proceeded  the 
great  advances  which  universal  society  had  made  within 
the  last  century.  Yes,  learn  that  the  structure  of  modern 
civilization  W3.S  based  upon  African  labor  —  slavery — and 
with  its  fall  must  fall  many  parts  of  the  noble  old  edifice, 
though  new  ones  may  rise.  Yes,  now  come  and  see  the 
beginning  of  your  mighty  work  —  see  that  same  laborer 
in  his  lawlessness,  his  aggressiveness,  his  debauchery,  his 
filth,  his  poverty,  his  already  departure  from  the  religious 
ministrations  of  those  who  led  him  out  of  his  total,  besotted 
darkness,  to  his  late  modest  but  practical  excellence,  and 
view  your  evangelization  !  Yes,  we  invite  ye,  in  the  name 
of  the  slandered,  the  wronged,  the  down-trodden,  and  pau- 
perized South,  to  come  and  view  the  beginning  of  your  mil- 
lennial work.  Come  and  see  the  delicate  mothers  and 
daughters  filling  the  most  menial  and  laborious  places, 
quietly  trudging  on,  through  poverty  and  weariness,  to 
death  —  and  then  ask  us  to  love  ye  !  to  love  ye ! !  to  love 
ye ! ! !  Ha !  ha  !  ha  !  To  love  ye !  and  to  love  the  Union! ! 
Ha !  gloat  in  your  blood  bonds,  and  your  thieveries !  Your 
days  are  numbered!  ay,  numbered  I! 

Yes,  the  slaves  are  freed,  and  may  they  ever  remain  so  — 
and  so  they  will,  unless  some  yet  undiscovered  country 
should  require  their  services ;  and  then  Puritan  enter- 
prise and  hypocritical  casuistry  would  soon  discover  some 
"middle  passage  "to  transport  them  thither;  but  for  the 
present,  the  final  overthrow  of  your  own  power,  the  wrongs 
you  have  inflicted,  and  the  hate  you  have  engendered,  is 
all  that  you  may  claim  of  this  great  event :  the  rest  be- 
longs to  destiny — to  the  future;  and  these,  neither  regard 


B  I.  O  O  M     A  N  J)     H  R  I  E  K  .  1 63 

him  wlio  precipitated,  nor  him  that  approved  its  decree. 
AVe  can  only  view  the  wrong  and  silently  await  the  end. 
In  the  meanwhile,  let  us  hear  no  more  of  the  ''Rebellion." 

Henry  Brandon  was  now  on  his  way  home,  with  no  one 
in  his  company  save  his  boy,  "  Sam  Brandon,"  who 
accompanied  his  young  master  whenever  he  could  get  a 
possible  excuse  to  do  so,  and  was  as  happy  as  it  was  ever 
intended  a  negro  should  be. 

After  riding  nearly  a  mile  in  silence,  Henry  suddenly 
turned  and  asked  him  why  he  did  not  talk. 

"  You  look  so  serious.  Mass  Henry,  this  morning,  I  jis 
thought  to  let  you  had  yo'  own  way  for  a  while." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  I  look  serious,  Sam?  " 

"I  sees  it  in  yo'  eye.  Mass  Henry,  and  you  don't  sing  nor 
whistle  none  yo'  old  chunes,  nor  yo'  don't  ride  fass." 

Sara  had  stood  near  the  carriage  of  Laura  Brandon,  the 
evening  before,  and  with  the  usual  instinct  of  the  negro  in 
such  matters,  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  his  young 
master  was  about  to  get  into  a  love  scrape  with  his  cousin, 
and  was  now  drawing  on  what  he  had  seen. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  has  made  me  serious,  Sam?" 

"  Don't  know,  IMass  Henry,  'ceptin'  it  war  that  kiss  you 
gin  Miss  Laura,  sorter  strikin'  in  on  yer,"  he  replied,  with 
a  hearty  chuckle. 

"  The  devil  you  say,  Sam ;  did  you  see  anything  of  that 
kind,  you  dog  ?  " 

"  Yah !  ha !  Mass  Henry,  I  sede  it  every  bit ;  but  nobody 
else  did,  for  I  looked  all  about." 

"  Ah,  you  are  a  great  rascal,  Sam  ;  what  were  you  watch- 
ing for  ? " 

"  I  wan't  watchin'  ov  you,  I  was  watchin'  for  you,  ]\Iass 
Henry." 

"  Ah  !  that  will  do  better ;  but  Sam,  why  have  you  never 
got  a  wife  —  you  are  old  enough  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sah,  and  I  is  ben  kinder  engaged  and  sorter  married 


164  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

two  or  three  times;  but  I  always  flewed  the  track,  'case  I 
knewed  that  you  would  want  me  soon  as  you  come  back, 
and  den  a  wife  would  jist  be  in  my  way,  and  a  never-een- 
din'  trouble." 

*'  Well,  do  you  think  of  getting  one  when  I  do  ?  " 

"  Oh !  yes,  sah,  I'll  get  a  gal  then  in  yernest." 

"  Have  you  seen  any  one  yet  that  you  would  like  me  to 
have?" 

"  AVell,  yes,  sah  ;  but  I  ain't  exac'ly  made  up  my  mine 
yet.  De  young  lady  at  ol'  Mr.  Gray's  carriage  was  a  mity 
fine-looking  young  lady.  She 's  his  daughter,  ain't  she,  Mass 
Henry?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  thought  so.  Well,  she  looked  mity  pleasin'  at  you,  an 
I  was  jist  making  up  my  mine  'bout  de  case  when,  de  good 
Lord !  I  sede  you  kiss  Miss  Laura ;  den  I  thought  to  myself, 
dat  is  a  case  itself." 

"What  would  you  think  of  that,  Sam — would  she  do?" 

"  Do  ?  I  speck  she  would.  Miss  Laura  is  the  fines'  young 
lady  in  dis  neck ;  but  den  you  is  cousins — what  you  gwine 
do 'bout  dat?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I'll  see  about  it ;  why  do  you  object  to 
cousins  getting  married  ?  " 

"Oh !  no  sah,  I  dus  not,  but  I  hear  it  whispered  'bout  by 
de  house  gals,  dat  dere  has  been  some  sort  of  tork  'bout  it 
over  at  Miss  Laura's." 

"You  have,  eh!  well  I  don't  know;  but  now  while  I 
think  of  it,  let  me  tell  you  that  you  must  learn  to  talk 
better.   You  've  gone  backward,  Sam,  since  you  were  a  boy." 

"  Yes,  sah,  I  knows  I  has,  but  who  could  help  dat,  'sociatin' 
fer  four  years  with  the  ding -feel  niggers;  but  I'll  larn 
again  to  speak  proper  'fore  long,  ]\tass  Hemy." 

"  You  must  notice  how  I  talk,  and  try  to  talk  as  I  do." 

"Yes,  sah,  I  is  watchin'  you." 

The  remainder  of  the  road  wa,s  passed  over  in  silence, 


BLOOM    AND     BRIER.  165 

Henry  Brandon  in  thinking  over  what  Sam  had  said  about 
the  "  house  girls  "  over  at  Mr.  Brandon's,  and  Sam,  over 
wliat  Henry  had  said  to  him  about  talking  better. 

When  he  reached  home,  he  found  his  mother  and  Violet 
looking  for  him,  and  rather  expecting  Hunter  to  be  with 
him.  Henry  explained  the  reasons  why  Hunter  had  not 
come,  and  said  to  Violet  that  he  had  not  brought  his  wel- 
come with  him,  and  that  she  appeared  to  be  disappointed. 
Violet  replied  that  she  could  not  have  had  hers  yesterday, 
or  she  supposed  he  would  have  come  home  with  her  last 
night. 

"  Whom  do  you  mean,  my  sharp  little  sister  ?  " 

"  Whom  do  you  prefer,  Laura  or  Miss  Gray  ?  " 

"  Mother,"  said  Plenry,  "  have  sufficient  authority  to  sup- 
press such  malignant  insinuations." 

"  I  don't  know,  my  son,  that  Violet  intends  to  be  malig- 
nant, but  I  would  prefer  her  ceasing  to  use  Laura's  name 
in  that  connection." 

The  latter  part  of  this  reply  was  a  little  chilling  to  Henry ; 
but  he  at  once  resolved  that  it  should  not  be  discovered, 
though  really  exposing  it  by  his  impatient  answer,  in  saying 
that  he  was  happy  to  have  the  tender  considerations  of  his 
friends  —  but  really  believed  that  he  was  not  yet  a  full  sub- 
ject for  their  sympathy,  in  this  particular  matter. 

"  I  hope  not,  and  only  said  what  I  did,  my  son,  to  guard 
you  against  becoming  such." 

After  some  further  conversation  in  regard  to  the  incidents 
of  the  day  before,  Violet  asked  him  how  he  liked  the  Metho- 
dist girl. 

"Elegantly,  she  is  a  great  female,  I  like  her." 

Subjects  of  a  more  sober,  matter-of-fact  character  were 
gradually  brought  up  by  Mrs.  Brandon  saying: 

"Have  you  forgotten,  Henry,  that  you  will  be  twenty- 
one  years  old  in  a  few  days?" 

"  No,  no  mother ;  so  important  an  event  in  the  prospective 


166  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

history  of  the  world  has  not,  could  not  escape  my  memory. 
On  the  contrary,  I  have  it  constantly  in  my  mind,  and 
reflect  upon  it  with  all  the  solemn  gravity  due  to  its  possible 
happening." 

"  I  am  not  jesting  with  you,  Henry,  as  —  " 

"  IS'or  I  with  you,  mother,"  said  he,  interrupting  her. 

"  As  there  are  matters  in  connection  with  it,  of  some  im- 
portance to  others  as  well  as  yourself." 

Henry,  still  following  the  bent  of  his  humor,  replied : 

"  You  almost  alarm  me,  mother  ;  is  it  so  unparalleled  an 
event,  that  a  young  gentleman  of  twenty  years  old,  and 
eleven  months,  and  twenty  days,  should  reach  the  next 
anniversary,  that  himself  and  all  the  world  beside  should 
grow  serious  at  the  prospect?" 

"  No,  it  is  not,  nor  do  I  intend  to  alarm  you,"  said  his 
mother,  smiling;  "but  truly  there  are  some  matters  for 
serious  consideration  in  connection  with  it,  which  will  have 
to  be  provided  for." 

"  Ah !  very  good  ;  proceed,  mother,  I  am  all  attention." 

"Brother,"  said  Violet,  a  little  impatient  at  his  con- 
tinued levity ;  if  there  was  not  the  best  evidence  that  you 
are  nearly  twenty -one,  I  should  think  you  only  sixteen. 
Will  you  never  grow  serious  ? " 

"  Not  one  hour  sooner  than  I  shall  be  compelled  to,  as  I 
can  reach  perfection  in  that  direction,  when  I  have  ex- 
hausted myself  in  all  others;  indeed,  seriousness  only 
follows  exhaustion  or  age,  unless  in  born  fools — they  come 
serious ;  but,  Violet,  why  do  you  wish  me  to  grow  melan- 
choly—  will  it  do  you  any  good  to  see  me  miserable?" 

At  this  she  rose  to  leave  the  room,  saying,  with  a  laugh, 
"  I  said  serious,  brother,  not  melancholy  or  miserable." 

When  Violet  left,  Henry  turned  to  his  mother,  saying, 
"  Forgive  me  mother  for  my  levity.  I  am  aware  of  the 
matters  you  alluded  to,  and  have  been  thinking  very 
soberly  over  them  all  the  morning." 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  167 

"I  supposed  you  had  of  course;  but  as  they  related  to 
Violet's  marriage,  I  wished  to  speak  of  them  before  her.  I 
suspect  she  left  for  that  reason." 

They  now  conversed  of  family  matters  for  some  time, 
when  Henry  remarked  that  he  had  talked  over  the  whole 
affair  with  Hunter  the  night  before.  "  It  appears  to  have 
been  a  very  quiet  sort  of  thing,  and  seems  to  be*  progressing 
very  quietly  still." 

"  Yes,  their  long  acquaintance  and  friendship  precluded 
anything  very  novel." 

Mrs.  Brandon  next  approached  him  on  the  subject  of 
such  continued  attention  to  Laura,  telling  him  there  was 
danger  in  it  to  them  both,  that  she  had  long  known  Laura's 
girlish  preference  for  him,  and  it  would  be  very  easy  for 
him  to  change  it  into  real  affection;  and  assured  him  that, 
from  her  knowledge  of  his  aunt's  character  and  mind,  she 
would  make  it  very  disagreeable  for  him  and  Laura  to 
meet  at  all,  should  she  once  discover  that  Laura's  feelings 
were  becoming  involved.  She  then  spoke  of  Laura's  habits 
of  implicit  obedience  to  her  mother,  "which  indeed  is 
very  commendable ;  but  that  she  carries  it  into  a  sort  of 
morbid  romance,  and  is  the  only  real  weakness  of  her 
character,  and  for  that  reason  would  not  sustain  herself." 

Henry  answered  affirmatively  to  all  this,  but  felt  any- 
thing else,  for  two  very  good  reasons  —  first,  because  it 
was  an  entirely  different  channel  from  that  in  which  his 
feelings  flowed,  and  again,  because  he  had  already  com- 
mitted himself  to  Laura,  in  different  ways,  and  intended 
to  follow  the  fortune  of  his  position  to  whatsoever  end  it 
would  lead. 


168  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

"  I  have  set  my  life  upon  a  cast, 
And  will  stand  the  hazard  of  the  die." 

VIOLET  had  now  returned  to  the  sitting-room,  and 
Henry  said  to  her,  by  way  of  changing  the  direction 
and  style  of  conversation  — 

"  I  have  to  regret  your  absence,  sister,  for  the  last  hour,  as 
for  the  whole  length  of  that  time  I  have  proven,  in  a  most 
eminent  manner,  my  extraordinary  capacity  for  serious 
reflection  and  for  entertaining  the  most  solemn  propositions. 
I  have  not  only  been  serious  ;  but  been  sitting  in  grave 
judgment  on  your  affairs,  and  arranged  them  on  the  purest 
and  most  formal  rules  of  equity,  however  unpleasant  it  was 
to  me  to  do  so.  Yes,  I  have  displayed  a  Roman  firmness, 
in  deciding  against  the  prospect  of  some  pleasures  which  I 
had  promised  myself" 

"I  rejoice,  brother,"  she  replied,  while  blushing  deeply; 
"  that  you  have  had  an  opportunity  of  refuting  my  asser- 
tion of  your  never-ending  juvenility,  and  that  my  own 
affairs  were  the  cause  of  it." 

"  Quite  a  handsome  speech,  my  pretty  sister.  But  I  will 
re-open  the  subject,  if  your  ladyship's  nerves  can  bear  the 
shock."  -.^^^^^^  "^ 

"Give  me  two  minute^^-t^i^epare,  and  I  will  be  at  your 
service ; "  then,  as  if  adjusting  herself  for  the  rehearsal, 
she  said  to  him  with  a  blushing  consciousness  of  what  was 
coming,  "  I  am  ready,  most  noble  judge." 

Henry  then  began  addressing  her  with  great  mock 
gravity,  in  the  following  words : 

"  Sister,  I  have  been  correctly  informed,  that  without  a 
proper  regard  or  consideration  for  the  enjoyment  of  the 
sentimental  portion  of  the  world,  and  for  my  own  future 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  1G9 

fame  as  a  novelist — you  did,  yes,  actually  did,  previous  to 
my  coining  home,  de^stroy  the  materials  wherewithal  I  had 
for  many  years  intended  to  weave  a  most  tender  and  beauti- 
ful romance.  I,  of  course,  refer  to  the  events  of  youv  first 
love-affair,  having  determined  that  these  events  should  well 
conform  to  the  historic  rules  of  all  *  true  love,'  in  never 
*  running  smooth.'  But  now,  I  find  the  entire  prospective 
fabric  of  my  fame  destroyed,  by  your  having  launched  your 
fortunes  on  the  smoothest,  calmest,  summer  sea  that  ever 
bore  upon  its  bosom  first  love's  frail  bark,  and  now  float  as 

*  Idle  as  a  painted  ship 
Upon  a  painted  ocean.'  " 

"  Even  with  humility,  do  I  something  bow  to  the  soft 
impeachment,  and  most  sincerely,  brother,  do  I  regret  the 
loss  which  the  world  will  sustain  from  the  destruction  of 
your  romance ;  but  as  the  only  compensation  in  my  power 
to  make,  I  have  this  instant  resolved  to  devote  much  time 
to  the  collection  of  even  better  material  than  my  own  affairs 
could  furnish,  and  may  even  draw  some  such  incidents  as 
you  speak  of  from  your  own  personal  history,  judging  from 
the  evidences  now  gathering  along  your  path." 

Here  was  a  covert  allusion  to  the  probable  difficulties  of 
a  "love  scrape"  with  his  cousin;  made  in  that  prophetic 
style  so  unwelcome  to  young  persons,  who  already  half  see 
their  coming  trouble  through  the  surrounding  haze. 

"  Yes,  I  thank  you  ;  and  whether  it  be  a  promise  or  a  pro- 
phecy, if  fulfilled,  the  result  will  be  the  same,  and  quite 
uncommon  —  the  chronicle  and  the  chronicler  united." 

"  No,  not  so  very ;  we  at  least  have  one  noble  instance  of 
an  author  making  merchandise  of  his  own  sorrow — Lord 
Byron." 

"  Your  instance  clears  up  the  doubt.  Suppose  we  next 
name  the  style  of  the  eflTort  —  whether  autobiography,  epic, 
chronicle,  or  romance ;  for  I  promise  you  my  pen  shall  be 
15 


170  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

equally  facile  in  either  composition,  though  it  sound  pre- 
sumptuous for  me  to  say  it.  I  have  an  equal  admiration  for 
Froisart  and  for  Sir  Walter  —  one  undertakes  a  chronicle 
and  ends  with  a  romance,  the  other  begins  a  romance  and 
ends  Avith  a  chronicle ;  both,  however,  succeed  in  giving  the 
most  charming  stories  of  love  and  chivalry." 

"  I  am  glad,  brother,  that  our  nonsense  has  really  sug- 
gested an  idea  to  me  —  a  good  one  too  —  that  you  do  in- 
deed set  to  work  at  writing  a  novel."  Then  smiling,  she 
continued,  "  it  will  suit  the  character  of  your  mind.  That 
love  of  the  marvellous  —  ihiiiinventive  faculty  for  which 
you  were  so  distinguished  when  a  youth,  in  both  of  which 
I  think  you  have  wonderfully  improved  —  will  have  a  fine 
field  to  revel  in ;  one  in  which,  as  Sheridan  once  said,  you 
can  *  draw  on  your  memory  for  your  jests,  and  your  ima- 
gination for  your  facts.'  But  then  I  must  stipulate  that 
you  do  not  indulge  too  far  in  that  direction,  as  I  cannot 
bear  your  stilted  romances,  where  all  the  heroes  are  larger, 
finer-looking,  braver,  and  wealthier  than  ever  men  get  to 
be,  so  far  as  I  have  seen ;  and  the  heroines,  nobler  bred, 
more  accomplished,  more  deeply  in  love,  and  more  perfect, 
than  we  poor  girls  ever  get  to  be;  and  having  the  two 
making  grand  speeches  on  subjects  that  never  come  up  in 
real  life." 

"Yes — well,  I  thank  you  most  graciously  for  your  com- 
pliments to  my  'marvellousuess,'  my  'inventive  faculty,' 
and  my  *  imagination  ; '  but  I  see  that  you  are  anxious  to 
clip  my  wings  immediately  in  the  beginning.  I  fear  your 
own  easy  love-life  has  made  you  so  matter-of-fact,  so  ple- 
beianized  your  ideas,  that  you  think  every  heroine  should 
be  named  Polly,  and  every  hero  Peter." 

"  No,  no,  brother,"  she  replied,  laughing  heartily ;  "  I  do 
not  think  that,  nor  do  I  think  that  every  hero  should  be  a 
Colonel  Mortimer,  nor  every  heroine  a  Lady  Fitzgerald ; 
the  one  wrapped  in  a  splendid  military  cloak,  but  allowing 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  171 

tlie  hilt  of  his  sword  to  pcej)  out,  and  tlie  heroine  in  a 
aplendid  velvet  riding-robe,  with  a  white  plume  sweeping 
I'roni  her  hat ;  both  superbly  mounted  on  Arabians,  and 
accidentally  meeting  at  a  dark  wood  on  the  highway,  just 
as  the  lady's  bridle  is  seized  by  a  robber,  etc.,  etc.  No, 
none  of  that,  I  charge  you.  Such  perhaps  never  happened, 
and  certiiinly  never  will  again." 

"  Yes,  I  understand  you,  I  think,  and  shall  endeavor  to 
benefit  by  your  suggestions.  Palinurus-like,  I  shall  en- 
deavor to  avoid  the  Scylla  and  the  Charybdis  of  the  too 
common,  and  the  too  uncommon.  Indeed,  the  thing  shall 
be  perfect.  What  else  could  it  be,  since  my  noble  self  is 
to  be  the  hero,  and  lovely  cousin  Laura  the  heroine?" 

"Even  so;  but  as  I  see  you  either  intend  to  act  or  write  a 
romance,  I  will  give  you  my  general  idea  of  such  things, 
as  perhaps  suggestive  of  something  new." 
"  Exactly  so,  my  learned  sister." 

"Well,  a  romance  is  indeed  a  history  —  the  history  of 
ideal  events ;  and  therefore  the  mirror  should  be  held  up 
to  nature,  that  it  may  reflect  life  as  it  actually  passes  before 
us :  that  is,  if  the  narrative  refers  to  the  present  period." 

"  Yes,  confine  yourself  to  the  present,  sister ;  the  story 
must  of  necessity  be  one  of  to-day." 

"  Then,  I  will  further  premise,  by  saying  that  you  of 
course  intend  a  presentation  of  patrician  life;  if  so,  there 
should  be  no  plot,  (plots  are  old-fashioned,)  involving 
strange  and  unnatural  contretemps  —  that  grade  of  life 
furnishes  no  plots ;  every  event  has  a  natural  relation  to  the 
succeeding  one ;  and  though  they  cannot  be  foreseen,  there 
is  no  mystery.  All  the  events  of  life  in  that  stratum  of 
society  are  plainly  connected,  and  develop  themselves  in 
a  simple  manner,  showing  the  paternity  of  one  event  to 
the  other ;  and  so  far  from  exciting  the  mind,  we  are  as- 
tonished afterward  that  we  had  not  foreseen  them.  Indeed, 
there  is  very  little  plot  or  mystery  in  any  grade  of  life. 


172  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

There  are  general  laws  of  universal  application,  and  all 
the  ends  of  life  are  worked  out  within  those  limits.  Pur- 
poses fail  or  succeed,  according  to  rational  laws;  all  other 
representations  are  but  ridiculous  absurdities.  The  vari- 
ously distorted  plots  of  our  romance  writers  is  the  chief 
basis  of  the  arguments  used  against  romance  reading, 
and  —  " 

"  Stop,  sister ;  I  think  you  should  allow  me  the  privilege 
of  some  slight  plot  in  this  novel  of  mine ;  for  you  tell  me 
that  I  will  never  be  able  to  persuade  ray  cousin  to  become 
Mrs.  Henry  Brandon ;  and  what  sort  of  novel  would  it  be 
to  break  down  right  in  the  middle  ? " 

"Oh!  that  must  often  happen  according  to  your  own 
theory,  by  adoption,  of  'true  love  never  running  smooth  ;' 
and  better  break  down  at  the  natural  termination  of  the 
story,  than,  to  uphold  it  with  an  absurdity." 

"Ah!  well,  well — write  a  short  one  —  yes,  I  will  consider 
your  suggestions ;  but  just  for  the  present,  let  us  leave  the 
future  romance,  and  come  back  to  those  actualities  of  the 
present  that  make  up  romance." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Violet,  who  had  been  playing  shy  of 
the  subject,  "  let  me  hear  you." 

"  Mother  informs  me  that  you  have  given  your  consent 
to  become  iSIrs.  Tom  Hunter,  at  no  very  distant  period 
ahead.     True  or  not  ?  " 

Affecting  great  self-possession,  while  the  crimson  rose  to 
her  very  temples,  she  replied :  "  Yes,  brother ;  have  you 
any  objection  ?  " 

"  Very  far  from  it  —  I  approve  your  choice ;  but  you 
should  have  made  some  show  of  consulting  me  —  your  elder, 
and  your  only  brother." 

"  Well,  brother,  I  have  met  your  views,  by  asking  if  you 
had  any  objection." 

"Very  well,  all  right;  but  allow  me  to  submit  a  few 
catechetics  to  your  maidenly  consideration." 


BLOOM     AND     BRIKR.  173 

"  Certainly." 

"  Has  it  ever  occurred  to  you,  in  these  young  hours  of 
roseate  love,  ■whether  you  would  be  as  willing  to  be  a  'help- 
mate '  to  said  Thomas  in  the  hours  of  adversity,  as  you  are 
to  be  his  lady  of  ease,  elegance,  and  luxury,  in  the  gay 
time  of  his  prosperity?" 

"No;  I  had  not  thought  directly  about  it ;  but  now  that 
you  point  my  attention  to  it,  I  can  answer  that  I  would." 

"Very  fiue ;  well,  has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  that  your 
united  fortunes  would  be  such  as  seldom  falls  to  the  share 
of  young  people  in  beginning  life,  and  that  you  would 
occupy  a  pre-eminent  position  over  your  past  associates  in 
that  respect  ? " 

Violet,  thinking  that  he  insinuated  mercenary  motives, 
quickly  replied,  "  No,  brother,  no ;  the  idea  of  property, 
fortune,  wealth,  has  never  once  entered  my  mind.  I  have 
never  thought  of  wealth.  In  all  the  walks  of  life  I  shall 
ever  aim  to  be  true  to  the  peace  and  honor  of  my — husband ; 
and  above  all,  be  true  to  my  own  heart  and  character ;  to 
these  ends  I  would  meet  adversity  with  an  unflinching, 
fearless  heart,  and  with  a  stronger,  readier  hand,  than  you 
may  think  I  possess ;  health  is  all  that  I  ask  —  my  heart  is 
right,  and  ready,  and  willing,  to  meet  every  demand  of  life." 

The  last  words  were  spoken  with  an  energy,  and  a  bright- 
ness flashing  from  her  eye,  and  w^ith  a  glowing  bloom  suf- 
fusing her  cheek,  that  told  of  their  noble  source. 

Both  of  them  rose  at  once,  as  if  by  some  common  sen- 
timent ;  the  brother  placing  his  arm  affectionately  around 
her,  kissed  her  blushing  cheek,  saying,  with  a  laugh  : 

"  Glorious  !  transcendent !  you  "play  the  heroine,  sister, 
even  in  our  mother's  chamber." 

"  Oh !  brother,  you  should  be  ashamed  to  have  so  excited 
me,  merely  for  your  amusement." 

"  I  had  a  purpose  in  it,  Violet.     I  am  looking  out  for  a 
heroine  for  my  forthcoming  romance.'' 
15* 


174  BLOOM    AXD    BRIE-R. 

In  the  course  of  further  conversation,  Mi'^.  Brandon  asked 
her  son  when  he  thought  of  beginning  his  law  studies  ? 

"  In  a  few  days ;  why,  mother,  are  you  all  getting  tired 
of  seeing  my  idleness  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  only  I  had  heard  you  speak  frequently  of  late 
of  going  into  the  office  of  Judge  Royal." 

"Yes,  I  had  spoken  to  him  in  regard  to  it;  but  he  is 
away  so  much  of  his  time,  and  is  away  now,  that  I  think  I 
shall  read  with  some  one  else." 

"  Brother,"  said  Violet,  "  why  not  read  with  Mr.  Camp- 
bell ?  " 

"  For  several  good  and  sufficient  reasons ;  the  first  of 
which  is,  that  it  comes  up  to  the  parable  of  the  blind  lead- 
ing the  blind ;  and  next,  and  last,  and  all,  I  do  not  think 
my  style  suits  his  style,  and  his  suits  mine  as  little.  He  is 
clearly  a  well-bred  gentleman,  but  belongs  to  that  class  of 
deferential  mannerists,  who  were  never  agreeable  to  me.  I 
would  not,  for  instance,  be  as  seriously  reverential  to  Uncle 
Robert  as  he  is,  for  both  of  his  girls." 

"  That  is  the  surest  method  of  winning,"  said  his  mother. 

"It  may  be;  but  somehow  I  prefer  losing  with  a  contest, 
than  to  win  by  servility." 

"  Yes,  and  with  such  notions  you  will  always  have  con- 
tests, whether  you  win  or  not." 

"Perhaps  I  may  ;  but  let  me  follow  the  law  of  my  life.  I 
would  lay  a  small  w^ager  that  at  college,  Campbell  always 
behaved  with  the  most  scrupulous  regard  for  every  silly 
by-law,  and  in  every  little  difficulty  in  his  text-books,  he 
bolted  off  to  a  tutor's  room,  for  a  grave  and  reverential 
consultation.  But  in  the  world  he  will  follow  precedent 
strictly,  and  by  a  most  deferential  respect  for  his  superiors 
in  place,  will  very  soon  reach  those  small  positions  which 
they  keep  in  reserve  for  the  faithful.  In  political  life,  the 
system  of  securing  office  has  been  reduced  to  such  com- 
pleteness, that  those  who  hold  them,  frown  down  anything 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  175 

like  an  original  idea,  by  combined  censure;  and  thus,  the 
whole  pack  live  in  mediocrity  by  prescription,  and  com- 
mit the  gravest  errors,  from  pure  ignorance  and  original 
timidity.  While  they  are  the  best-behaved,  sleekest-look- 
ing men  you  will  meet  in  a  summer's  day,  they  are  the 
most  dangerous  men  to  society,  simply  because  they  do  not 
know  when  they  enunciate  error  or  commit  faults.  Indeed, 
from  the  front  to  the  rear  one,  they  think  they  can  do  no 
wrong,  while  following  precedent.  I  speak  evenly  of  those 
only  who  intend  to  do  rir/ht,  and  I  often  fear  that  we  have 
more  to  apprehend  from  our  good  men  than  our  bad.  Yes, 
I  think  Campbell  will  succeed  in  life,  by  just  such  grada- 
tions, policy,  and  his  extremely  obsequious  manners.  I 
want  no  such  success.  He  will  marry  Lucy  Brandon,  and 
she  will  do  what  the  world  calls  well,  while  I  —  but  never 
mind." 

"  Oh  !  brother,  you  are  just  a  little  envious  of  his  smooth- 
sailing  before  aunt.  You  should  follow  his  example,"  said 
Violet,  banteringly. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

"  But  then  her  face, 
So  lovely,  yet  so  arch,  so  full  of  mirth, 
The  overflowiugs  of  an  innocent  heart." 

AS  Mr.  Jerome  and  Dr.  Wilton  were  riding  along  on 
their  way  home  from  Hunter's,  with  nothing  to  dis- 
turb the  silence  save  the  occasional  humming  of  some  love- 
song  by  the  Doctor,  the  latter  suddenly  turned  to  Mr. 
Jerome,  and  asked  him  how  he  had  liked  the  "round 
trip." 

"Oh,  finely,  elegantly,"  said  Mr.  Jerome.  "I  think  the 
little  extemporized  dancing-party  the  very  nicest  affair  of 
the  kind  I  have  seen  for  many  day^  —  really  artistic.     The 


176  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

conception  of  it,  the  manner  of  getting  it  up,  the  handsome 
and  unique  style  of  the  notes,  the  hospitable  reception, 
the  gay,  social,  and  intellectual  abandon,  the  music,  old 
Sancho,  and  the  joyous  assembly  of  negroes,  and  the  splen- 
did supper,  all  presented  one  of  the  best  miniature  pictures 
that  could  have  been  drawn  of  social  life,  happiness,  joy- 
ousness,  and  abundance  of  Southern  plantation  homes." 

"  Yes,"  said  Dr.  Wilton  ;  "  but  you  have  left  out  of  your 
very  just  enumeration  of  features,  the  most  striking  and 
chiefest  of  all." 

"  What  do  you  refer  to,  Doctor  ?  " 

"  Why  surely,  the  beautiful  daughters  of  these  plantation 
homes,"  replied  the  Doctor,  with  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  Yes,  I  beg  pardon ;  it  is  indeed  seldom,  either  in 
plantation  homes  or  elsewhere,  that  so  many  very  beauti- 
ful girls,  for  the  number,  can  be  found ;  by  the  way.  Doctor, 
which  did  you  think  the  handsomest?" 

"  It  is  a  difficult  question  to  decide ;  but  there  was  one 
that  I  thought  approached  perfection,  nigher  than  the  rest." 

"  Pray,  which  one  was  that  ? "  asked  Mr.  Jerome,  smiling 
at  the  Doctor's  extravagance ;  "  Miss  Morton  ? " 

"  No ;  I  will  not  say  it  was  Miss  Morton,  unless  you  de- 
mand it." 

"  Miss  Hunter,  then?  if  I  should  make  no  demand." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Hunter ;  if  you  allow  me  full  scope  of  ex- 
pression. Though  possibly  her  sweeping  beauty  is  more 
in  my  own  eye,  perhaps,  than  in  any  one  else's  —  in  yours 
at  least." 

"  I  discovered  that  you  construed  Laura  Brandon's  tem- 
porary bestowal  of  her  into  a  real  fee-simple  title." 

"  Why,  was  I  very  pertinacious  in  my  attentions  to 
her?" 

"  Oh,  no ;  not  beyond  a  very  decided  expression  of  pre- 
ference." 

"Did  she  appear  wearied  with  it?" 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  177 

"  Not  at  all ;  rather  to  the  contrary  —  that 's  the  style  to 
win,  Vamoiir,  always  with  a  girl  —  in  the  teeth  of  jaun- 
diced speculation,  to  the  contrary." 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  you  tell  me  so,  since  I  even  more  than 
hinted  that  I  should  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  calling  very 
soon  at  Judge  Hunter's.  By  the  way,  the  old  Judge  did 
the  handsome  thing  yesterday.  He  came  up  to  me,  and 
after  conversing  a  little,  remarked  that  he  had  wished  to 
see  me  for  some  week  or  two,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  me 
to  practise  on  his  lower  plantation,  if  within  my  circuit.  I 
thanked  him,  and  accepted.  There  is  one  objection  to 
it,  however." 

"  What  is  that  ?  it  pays  six  or  seven  hundred  dollars  a 
year." 

"  Yes  ;  but  then  I  do  not  go  by  his  house  in  going  there 
—  ha  !  ha !  ha !  " 

"  Oh  !  you  will  frequently  meet  him,  and  he  will  of 
course  ask  you  to  come  over  to  see  him  when  you  can, 
which  invitation  you  will,  of  course,  very  modestly  accept, 
though  professing  to  have  but  little  time  at  your  dis- 
posal." 

"Yes,  I  am  obliged  to  you,  Parson,  for  the  idea  and  the 
modus.  I  wish  the  Judge  and  his  negroes  all  possible  good 
health  ;  but  what  sickness  there  is  to  he,  I  wish  would  begin 
right  away.  I  '11  do  my  best  on  it.  But  I  am  making  all 
the  confessions  —  let  me  hear  from  you,  Parson." 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  have  any  great  confessions  to  make, 
Doctor.  I  suppose  you  expect  me  to  say  something  of  Miss 
Morton." 

"  Yes  ;  as  I  fancy  you  would  select  her  as  your  preferred 
subject." 

"  I  scarcely  know  what  to  say.  I  certainly  do  admire 
her ;  more,  doubtless,  than  she  admires  me.  There  is  more 
of  the  subtle  essence  of  intellect  indicated  in  her  physique, 
than  in  that  of  any  young  woman  of  my  acquaintance." 


178  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  Make  an  exception,  Parson,  in  favor  of  Miss  Hunter, 
if  you  please." 

"  No,  I  cannot ;  Sally  Morton  has  more  intellect  than 
any  girl  I  know  —  too  much  for  her  happiness,  unless  she 
had  more  means  of  using  it.  She  has  too  much  mind  for 
a  female,  unless  it  runs  in  the  channel  of  hook-making,  or 
something  of  the  kind  ;  but,  even  that  is  a  sort  of  capacity 
to  itself,  requiring  more  mechanical  art  than  genius  or 
learning.  With  a  small  share  of  learning,  the  mechanic 
who  builds  an  old  woman's  hand-loom,  can  write  an  average 
book.  Miss  Morton  has  ten  times  more  capacity  for  writing 
than  nine  in  ten  have,  who  succeed  at  it,  yet  I  think  she 
would  fail.  A  book  written  by  persons  of  high  genius,  is 
too  great  a  draft  on  common  intellect.  She  could  not  adapt 
her  thoughts  to  that  lower  level,  which  the  critical  and  the 
every-day  reading  world  demands  —  her  mind  does  not 
move  in  the  direction  of  every-day  practicality.  She  will 
perform  every-day  obligations  if  called  on,  as  she  appears 
to  have  a  high  sense  of  her  duty  ;  but  not  con  amove.  She 
is,  peculiarly,  a  type  of  the  highest  Southern  female  charac- 
ter, in  which  there  is  a  want  of  adaptability  to  the  lower 
grades  of  duty.  This  style  of  woman  seems  more,  than  for 
any  other  purpose,  intended  to  reproduce  their  character  in 
men.  The  sons  of  such  women,  it  is,  that  give  the  true 
tone  to  Southern  life  and  character.  Her  intellect  is  of  the 
highest  female  character ;  her  attainments  are  handsome, 
and  very  accomplishing;  her  wit  is  keen  and  elegant;  her 
mirth  is  as  pure  and  joyous  as  a  child's  ;  her  love  of  genuine 
sentiment,  and  her  appreciation  of  true  romance,  give  her 
character  that  charm  which  few  can  resist  who  come  in 
association  with  her.  I  had  nighly  said,  compels  them  to 
love  her;  and  to  love  her  —  is  infatuation." 

"  Then  you  confess  yourself  to  be  in  love  with  the  young 
lady?" 

"  I  confess  that  I  have  that  feeling,  which,  if  left  to  itself,         i 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  179 

would  soon  lead  me  to  love  her  ;  and  all  that  keeps  me  from 
it,  is  a  sort  of  conservatism  ^vhich  my  feelings  exercise  over 
themselves,  while  not  encouraged  to  give  loose  rein  to  their 
inclinations  by  herself." 

After  this,  both  gentlemen  again  relapsed  into  silence, 
and  spurred  their  horses  to  quicker  gait.  The  remainder 
of  the  road  was  travelled  over,  with  scarcely  a  word  from 
either. 

Reaching  home  they  each  went  to  their  own  rooms.  Dr. 
Wilton,  finding  two  or  three  notes  from  patients,  was  very 
soon  on  the  road  again.  Mr.  Jerome,  after  making  some 
inquiries  about  home  affairs,  put  on  his  studying  gown  and 
went  to  the  library. 

Mr.  Jerome,  as  we  have  already  said,  had  been  left  an 
orphan  at  an  early  age,  and  the  heir  to  a  handsome  estate. 
After  the  completion  of  his  education  he  had,  as  too  many 
young  men  of  genius  and  wealth  do,  passed  several  years 
of  high  frolicsome  life;  but  in  the  height  of  his  mad 
career,  some  private  circumstance  had  directed  his  thoughts 
to  the  subject  of  religion  ;  and  he  very  soon,  not  only  united 
himself  to  the  Church,  but  resolved  upon  entering  the 
ministry.  On  finishing  his  divinity  course,  he  returned  to 
his  old  home,  and  was  immediately  called  to  the  parish 
of  which  he  now  had  charge ;  but  still  resided  at  his  own 
home,  where,  as  we  have  already  said,  Dr.  Wilton  lived 
with  him,  and  practised  his  profession.  He  and  old  Mr. 
Thaxton  were  his  only  home  companions.  The  latter  we 
have  also  spoken  of,  but  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  say  of  him 
in  this  connection,  that  he  had  always  been  remarkable  for 
his  scrupulous  honesty,  his  quiet  gentlemanly  manners,  a 
keen  insight  into  character,  and  a  fine  natural  mind,  which 
had  been  well  cultivated  by  reading,  and  by  constant  asso- 
ciation with  the  best  society  of  the  surrounding  country. 
No  one  ever  thought  of  Mr.  Thaxton  but  as  an  equal, 
and  a  welcome  visitor  at  any  time  that  his  employment 


180  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

permitted  the  recreation,  simply,  because  he  never  pushed 
himself  upon  any  one  out  of  his  sphere.  In  this  man- 
ner, he  was  highly  esteemed  by  the  older  members  of  the 
families,  and  a  universal  favorite  with  the  younger  ones. 

Mr.  Thaxton  was  in  the  library  looking  over  some  books 
when  Mr.  Jerome  entered. 

"  Ah,  James,"  said  he,  "  back  again.  I  am  glad  to  see 
you  —  had  almost  begun  to  think  something  serious  had  hap- 
pened to  you  ;  and  had  begun  to  think  a  little  of  taking  a 
neighborhood  search  for  you,  or  getting  out  letters  testa- 
mentary on  your  —  library,  at  least." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  nothing  out  of  the  way,  but  the  overstaying 
of  my  appointed  time  a  little." 

"  Yes,  I  think  so  ;  where  is  the  Doctor  ?  " 

"  Come  —  and  gone  again." 

"  All  right ;  several  have  sent  for  him.  You  must  have 
spent  your  time  very  agreeably.  How  are  they  all  over 
there  f " 

"  Very  well ;  and  asked  why  you  had  not  been  to  see 
them  of  late.  Miss  Laura  Brandon  asked  particularly 
about  you." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  them ;  and  particularly  to  my  sweet 
young  friend  Laura." 

"And  your  old  boy-friend,  Henry  Brandon,  seemed 
never  tired  talking  and  asking  about  you." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  him,  too  ;  and  have  really  wished  to  go 
over  there,  ever  since  I  heard  he  had  returned,  just  to  see 
how  he  looks  and  to  hear  him  talk." 

"  He  says  he  has  appointed  several  times  to  come  to  see 
you,  but  something  prevented." 

"  Yes  ;  he  was  a  great  favorite  of  mine  when  a  lad,  some 
five  or  six  years  since.  I  worked  near  a  year  at  his  mother's, 
if  you  remember?  No,  you  do  not ;  you  were  off  at  college 
about  that  time.  Well,  I  was  there  when  he  was  preparing 
for  college  himself,  at  the  academy,  and  a  wild  chap  he  was. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  181 

I  always  uoticed  thougli,  that  there  was  no  taste  for  low 
dissipation  in  him,  nor  anything  smacking  of  meanness. 
His  uncle  did  not  entirely  comprehend  him,  and  used  to 
say  tliat  he  did  not  know  how  to  manage  him.  I  told  him 
to  let  the  boy  alotie,  that  he  was  all  right,  and  that  his 
wildness  was  little  else  than  love  of  action  and  joyousness 
of  heart ;  but  he  did  not  altogether  take  in  the  idea,  and 
he  and  his  wife  both,  rather  got  it  down  that  Henry  was  a 
very  wild  youth,  though  they  appeared  very  fond  of  him, 
and  he  was  a  great  deal  at  their  house." 

"  He  is  at  home  now,  and  about  as  gay  a  lark  as  you 
have  seen  for  many  a  day." 

"  I  expect  so ;  he  used  to  go  to  every  country  dance  he 
could  hear  of,  particularly  down  in  the  Hills,  without  let- 
ting it  be  known  to  any  one  except  his  boy  *  Sam'  who  made 
all  the  arrangements  for  him,  and  went  with  him  too.  I 
have  not  seen  Sam  for  several  years ;  he  was  a  sharp  imp, 
with  as  great  a  genius  for  deviltry  as  his  master.  Henry 
loved  him  better  than  any  white  boy  on  earth,  and  Sam 
would  have  fought  to  his  death  for  Henry.  Yes,  Sam  would 
have  the  horses  ready  at  the  right  time  and  place  ;  and  I'll 
wager,  that  not  a  man  or  woman  down  there  but  remem- 
bers Henry  Brandon  and  his  boy  Sam." 

"  How  did  his  mother  like  all  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not  much,  of  course ;  but  she  seldom  found  it  out 
for  some  time,  as  he  was  always  back  by  day,  before  she 
had  risen ;  and  you  say  he  appears  wild  and  gay  yet?  " 

"  Yes ;  all  life,  animation,  and  fun,  and  one  of  the  finest 
dancei*s  I  ever  saw." 

"  Yes ;  he  w^as  a  fine  dancer,  and  one  of  the  handsomest 
boys  I  ever  saw.  Laura  was  a  very  fine  dancer  also.  I 
have  seen  them  dance  together  often,  at  their  little  neigh- 
borhood parties.  Henry  used  to  claim  her  for  his  sweet- 
heart when  a  boy,  and  is  quite  likely  to  do  so  as  a  man. 
16 


182  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

But  the  old  people  will  object  to  it  7iow  —  it  was  a  little 
sly  fun  for  them  then." 

"  I  rather  think  you  have  a  correct  estimate  of  him.  I 
remarked  in  his  conversation,  the  other  night,  with  the 
young  people,  a  rich  vein  of  wit,  humor,  and  thought,  and 
last  night,  in  conversation  with  Campbell,  he  appeared  to 
handle  him  with  all  ease ;  and  you  know,  Campbell  is  viewed 
as  a  young  man  of  fine  mind." 

"  Ah,  just  from  the  style  of  them,  without  knowing  any- 
thing of  them  as  men,  I  would  lay  my  wager  on  Henry 
every  time.  Henry  will  be  longer  in  maturing ;  he  will  be  a 
man  just  coming  in,  when  Campbell  has  culminated.  Camp- 
bell will  come  on  the  carpet  first,  because  he  will  court 
favor,  which  Henry  will  never  do ;  he  has  too  much  mind 
—  he  is  gay,  and  will  always  be  gay,  and  for  years  will  pass 
for  less  than  his  real  worth ;  but  he  has  the  true  ring,  and 
the  world  will  eventually  call  for  him.  But  tell  me,  who 
else  did  you  see  ? " 

"  Oh,  a  great  number,  of  whom  I  have  often  heard  you 
speak,  some  old,  and  some  young  —  among  others.  Miss 
Gray." 

"Did  you,  indeed?  She  is  a  game-looking  girl,  isn't 
she  ?     How  did  you  like  her  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  ^ame-looking  girl,  as  you  say.  I  felt  a  little 
shy  of  her ;  but  young  Brandon  and  she  seemed  to  get 
along  admirably.     She  is  very  handsome,  and  very  gay." 

"Ah,  he  would  get  along  with  the  devil — begging  your 
pardon  —  if  he  would  go  at  all.  By  the  way,  that  would 
be  a  superb  match,  if  old  Gray  should  take  a  notion  to  it." 

"  He  and  the  young  lady  both  took  quite  a  fancy  to  him 
yesterday,  I  assure  you." 

"  Good !  Henry  will  win,  if  he  starts ;  and  old  Gray 
could  n't  stop  him,  if  he  would.  I  would  bet  my  wig  on 
that.  The  only  objection  to  that  family  is  its  disposition 
to  religious  fanaticism.     They  all  belong  to  a  little  piece 


B  L  ()  O  M     A  N  D     B  K  I  E  R  .  1 83 

of  the  Method i.st  denomination  lately  shivered  off,  called 
Reformers,  I  believe.  But  did  you  see  any  girl  that  you 
liked  better  than  yourself,  James?  —  as  I  am  getting  tired 
of  a  household  where  masters  play  mistress." 

Before  Mr.  Jerome  had  time  to  reply,  a  message  came 
to  him  that  one  of  those  little  difficulties  had  taken  place 
which  were  of  frequent  occurrence,  on  large  plantations, 
between  a  driver  and  the  overseer,  which  only  the  master 
could  arrange.  He  was  not  long  engaged  in  the  settlement, 
and,  making  things  satisfactory  to  both  parties,  he  returned 
to  the  libra rv,  where  Mr.  Thaxton  still  remained. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

"  Genius  is  supposed  to  be  a  power  of  producing  excellencies  which 
are  out  of  the  reach  of  the  rules  of  art;  a  power  which  no  precepts  can 
teach,  and  which  no  industry  can  acquire." 

"VTES,"  answered  Mr.  Jerome  to  Mr.  Thaxton's  last  ques- 
JL  tion,  "  I  saw  several  that  I  would  be  willing  to  swap 
myself  off  for,  and  that  I  could  love,  too  ;  but  whether  that 
will  avail  me  anything,  is  the  point.  I  saw  Miss  Morton, 
and  absolutely  danced  with  her." 

"  Ah !  an  Episcopal  clergyman  dancing  with  a  Baptist 
sister !  That  is  something  new  under  the  sun.  AVell,  she 
is  truly  a  great  girl.  But  then  it  appears  to  me  that  you 
have  had  that  affair,  as  kuuck  boys  say,  in  the  nine  hole, 
and  can't  get  it  out ;  but,  now  that  you  have  danced  with 
her,  perhaps  the  matrimonial  skies  will  brighten.  I  am 
rejoiced  that  you  have  made  a  move.  Any  direction,  in 
euch  matters,  is  better  than  standing  still.  If  a  love-affair 
ever  stagnates,  ten  to  one  if  it  survives." 

"  You  will  discourage  me,  Mr.  Thaxton,  with  your  hard 
philosophy." 


184  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  do  so ;  for  Sally  Morton  possesses  very- 
rare  qualities,  and  is  another  of  the  young  people  for  whom 
I  have  prophesied  well.  I  knew  her  father,  and  a  most 
excellent  gentleman  he  was ;  and  I  have  seen  a  good  deal 
of  Sally  since  she  has  resided  at  Judge  Hunter's  ;  but  with 
all  of  her  very  high  attributes,  she  will  ifever  be  generally 
admired  by  young  men  —  she  has  too  much  wit,  too  much 
mirth,  too  much  gayety,  too  much  sense  —  genius;  all  of 
which  are  very  grave  offences  to  the  dull  plodders  of  this 
every-day  world.  AU people  make  war  upon  genius,  whether 
it  is  rich  or  poor,  but  particularly  if  poor.  Make  a  note 
of  that !  I,  however,  have  a  philosophy  of  my  own  to  meet 
that  fact,  which  is,  that  every  one's  own  life  is  a  law^  unto 
itself,  and  the  beginning,  when  clearly  and  unmistakably 
given  out,  always  foreshadows  the  end.  In  her  case,  every- 
thing calls  for  an  influential  position,  at  some  time  of  life. 
Nature  must  be  true  to  itself — cannot  waste  its  own  wealth ; 
and,  by  all  the  laws  and  affinities  of  life,  she  is  bound  to 
get  back  her  lost  place.     There  is  everything  in  blood." 

"  You  have  just  developed  that  idea,  Mr.  Thaxton.  I 
have  never  heard  you  broach  it  before,"  said  Mr.  Jerome, 
smiling. 

"  I  can't  say ;  but  whether  I  have  or  not,  I  have  long 
believed  it,  and  believe  more  than  I  say.  I  have  had  no 
occasion  to  express  it  to  you  before." 

"  According  to  that  idea,  there  would  never  happen  any- 
thing permanently  adverse  in  life.  Nature,  as  you  call  it, 
ultimately  restoring  all  we  may  have  lost." 

"Ah,  I  don't  mean  what  I  say  to  have  so  literal  and 
matter-of-fact  a  construction  ;  nor  do  I  mean  to  say  that 
the  human  mind  is  always  able  to  control  the  direction  of 
affairs.  I  only  say  that  the  gifts  of  nature  always  become 
recognized  at  some  time  or  other  during  life  —  that  life 
never  ends  till  they  are  —  both  go  together,  and  that  this 
recognition  is  by  that  much  what  the  mind  covets,  demands, 


B  L  O  O  M     A  N  D     liUI  K  R  .  185 

and  will  have.  For  instance,  a  man  may  have  intellect 
and  parts,  and  yet  be  very  little  able  to  control  the  course 
of  events;  yet,  the  ultimate  recognition  of  the  fact  that  he 
is  a  man  of  intellect  carries  with  it  a  certain  influence,  and 
that  influence,  however  modified,  is  personal  eminence,  and 
a  restoration  of  the  rights  which,  to  that  time,  had  been 
obscured.  I  don't  mean  that,  in  the  course  of  time,  a  man 
will  receive  some  office  equal  to  the  quality  of  his  mind  — 
for  they  are  generally  received  by  the  least  worthy  of  all ; 
nor  do  I  mean  that  a  man  will  receive  back  any  certain 
amount  of  coin  which  he  may  have  previously  lost ;  but 
that  his  mind  and  character  will  be  estimated  according  to 
their  true  worth  ;  and  estimation  is  influence,  with  or  with- 
out position." 

"  You  think,  then,  that  real  worth  is  generally  obscured 
for  the  time,  and  that  error  is  the  law  of  life." 

"  Yes,  to  a  very  large  extent,  I  do.  How  else  could  we 
account  for  the  periodical  derangement  of  society  ?  Yet 
they  have  their  periods  of  correction.  The  derangements 
come  through  the  lesser  capacities  —  who,  as  I  said,  gener- 
ally hold  position  —  and  their  correction  through  the  greater. 
These  lesser  capacities  are  largely  in  the  ascendant  —  as 
nine  to  one.  For  instance,  I  mean  that  about  nine  in  ten 
of  our  public  men  are  absolutely  unfit  for  the  place,  and 
would  be  far  more  respectable  if  they  were  —  where  I  have 
always  been  —  at  the  jack-plane.  They  are  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  moral  and  political  maggots,  breeding  rottenness 
and  stench ;  and  were  it  not  for  the  influence  of  the  tenth 
man  —  who  is,  nine  times  in  ten,  out  of  power  —  the  whole 
machinery  of  life  would  go  to  the  devil  in  ten  generations. 
This  is  w^hat  Nature  calls  for  —  influence,  and  it  is  bound 
to  be  recognized  at  some  time  or  other." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Thaxton,  you  have  elaborated  quite  a  sys- 
tem of  philosophy  since  I  left  home ;  but  I  am  afraid  it  is 
a  little  cranky.     What  has  happened  to  you  ?  " 
16* 


186  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  Nothing  has  happened  to  me.  *  Cranky,'  your  great 
grandmother !  What  I  say  is  just  as  true  as  your  preach- 
ing—  not  saying  anything  against  that,  either.  But  I  sup- 
pose you  think  me  '  cranky '  because  I  happened  to  get  a 
little  out  of  sight  of  Sally  Morton." 

"Perhaps  that  is  the  reason,"  said  Mr.  Jerome,  laughing. 

"  But  I  Avas  talking  of  her." 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  but  be  more  direct,  and  not  so  abstract" 
he  said,  laughingly. 

"  I  thought  so.  Just  the  way  with  you  preachers  —  get 
love  into  your  heads.  But,  never  mind,  if  you  can  get 
her,  do  so  ;  she  will  adorn  any  gentleman's  house.  I  only 
fear  you  can't  do  it." 

*'  Why  do  you  fear  it  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Jerome,  with  an  evi- 
dent interest  in  the  answer. 

"I  will  answer  you,  James,  provided  you  will  not  get 
hurt  if  I  bear  heavy  upon  you." 

"  Oh,  speak  your  mind  freely,  Mr.  Thaxton.  You  know 
you  always  have  that  privilege." 

"  Well,  then,  Sally  Morton  is,  by  the  law  of  her  nature, 
supremely  ambitious.  She  does  not  show  it  now,  because 
she  does  not  feel  any  identity  with  the  situation,  which 
precludes  her  mind  from  its  normal  action.  When  she 
marries,  or  comes  to  marry  —  as  all  girls  expect  —  the 
sense  of  responsibility  for  the  future  will  come  back,  and 
this  ambitious  nature  of  hers  will  suggest  the  selection  of 
such  a  man  as  will  secure  the  success  which  the  law  of  her 
life  spreads  out  in  gorgeous  beauty  before  her.  In  this 
selection,  that  which  we  may  call  instinct  —  for  the  Avant 
of  a  better  word  to  express  that  subtle  feature  of  the  mind 
which  penetrates  the  shadowy  future  —  would  lead  her  to 
fear  you  —  to  fear  that  you  would  not  meet  the  demand  — 
unless  you  could  clear  up  the  apprehension." 

"Mr.  Thaxton,  you  are  quite  transcendental  in  your 
reasoning.     You  say  that   marriage   is   not  directed  by 


BLOOM   AND   bkij:r.  187 

reason,  hut  by  some  unseen  power  that  influences  our  lives, 
over  which  we  exert  no  control." 

"  Yes,  but  not  so  emphatically  as  you  interpret  me.  Nor 
do  I  mean  it  to  be  of  universal  application  —  only  to  spe- 
cial instances.  Nor  do  I  exactly  mean  as  you  say.  I 
mean  that  there  is  a  certain  aspiration,  which  more  con- 
trols some  hearts,  in  the  matter  of  marriage,  than  those 
faculties  of  the  mind  w^hich  we  are  in  the  common  habit 
of  exercising ;  and  these  faculties  are  subservient  to  that 
aspiration,  even  when  we  least  know^  of  it.  But  let  me  be 
more  specific  —  less  abstract,  as  you  say  —  and  you  will 
comprehend  me  better." 

"  Very  good,  proceed ;  I  am  ready  for  an  excoriation." 

"  If  you  think  I  intend  to  excoriate  you,  I  shall  say 
nothing  more." 

"  I  was  merely  jesting,  Mr.  Thaxton.  I  am  really  anx- 
ious to  hear  your  opinions." 

"Fii-st,  then,  I  will  give  them  in  familiar  language. 
You  are  an  indolent  man  —  rather  so.  I  mean  that,  hav- 
ing never  been  under  the  necessity,  you  have  never  trained 
yourself  to  putting  out  all  your  strength ;  and  no  man  can 
put  out  his  whole  mental  force,  unless  he  knows  how  to 
put  out  his  whole  physical  power.  They  are  indissolubly 
connected." 

"  Are  you  going  to  argue  that  inertia  is  the  law  of  my 
life?" 

"  No  ;  but  it  certainly  modifies  its  momentum.  It  is  a 
sort  of  negative  quantity  —  vis  inertice  I  may  call  it — and 
no  man  who  has  it  can  work  his  mind  to  high  achieve- 
ment, no  matter  how  complete  in  its  parts,  unless  he  forces 
himself  above  it.  In  as  far  as  he  fails  to  do  this,  he  fails 
to  bring  his  mind  up  to  its  capacitated  standard  of  action  ; 
and  the  qualities  left  unexercised  are,  of  necessity,  the 
higher  qualities,  because  of  being  the  most  difficult  to 
move.     Now,  for  instance,  in  the  construction  of  any  com- 


188  BLOOM     AND     BRIEK. 

plete  mind,  there  enters,  to  greater  or  less  extent,  that 
capacity  for  glowing  imagination  which  we  call  poetry  — 
eloquence  —  when  evolved  in  proper  language.  To  pos- 
sess this  power  of  language,  is  a  thing  of  first  necessity, 
and  can  only  be  acquired  by  patient,  laborious  industry. 
Byron  did  not  write  Childe  Harold  without  a  great  deal 
of  patient  thought  and  persistent  effort.  Language  comes 
by  study,  is  the  child  of  thought  and  emotion,  and  they 
act  and  re-act  on  each  other.  Thought  begets  a  word,  and 
another  word  another  thought ;  therefore,  in  organizing 
thought  for  expression,  you  go  to  the  deep  intricacies  and 
machinery  of  language ;  and  from  this  laboratory  of  lan- 
guage you  return,  newly  armed,  to  conquer  in  the  realms  of 
thought.  Eloquence,  poetry,  etc.,  are  but  little  else  than 
the  expression,  by  one  man,  through  patient,  laborious 
industry,  of  what  every  other  feels,  without  the  power  of 
expression.  That  is  why  they  are  so  esteemed  and  ap- 
plauded. *  Poeta  nascitur,  non  fit,'  is  not  altogether  tiaie 
—  they  are  made  as  well  as  born.  Now,  you  being  deficient 
in  thorough  training  of  your  strength,  you  are  deficient  in 
this  noble  capacity  of  organizing  thought  into  language. 
Being  deficient  in  language,  you  also  are,  in  tracing  deli- 
cate emotions  to  their  subtle  sources,  and  '  wreaking  them 
upon  expression.'  Byron,  by  the  use  of  that  very  word 
wreak,  gives  out  the  idea  of  labor.    Nothing  without  labor." 

"  Do  you  think  then,"  asked  ]Mr.  Jerome,  "  that  poetry 
and  eloquence  rank  higher  in  the  scale  of  intellect,  than 
strong  reasoning  power  ?  " 

"  No  matter  what  I  think  ;  a  woman  does,  nor  shall  I  go 
into  an  analysis." 

"  But,  Mr.  Thaxton,"  said  Mr.  Jerome,  rather  apologetic- 
ally ;  "  I  am  not  in  a  profession  that  admits  of  this  am- 
bitious display  which  you  speak  of." 

"You  are  mistaken;  the  ministry  presents  the  very 
highest  field  of  oratory.     It  is  the  subject,  that  to  a  large 


BLOOM    AND    RRIER.  189 

extent  lends  Paradise  Lost  its  splendid  eloquence.  You 
content  youi-self  with  too  little.  You  content  yourself  with 
a  simple  presentation  of  the  truths  of  the  Bible,  which  is 
very  well,  but  that  is  not  all  that  is  necessary ;  the  Bible 
points  to  eloquence,  but  without  a  great  deal  of  true  per- 
sistent labor,  you  will  never  be  an  eloquent  divine.  You 
\yill,  therefore,  but  half  develop  your  profession,  while  you  do 
not  elaborate  —  dive  deep." 

Mr.  Jerome  somehow  thought,  that  from  these  opinions 
of  Mr.  Thaxton  he  had  obtained  a  key  to  many  things 
Miss  Morton  had  said  to  him^  and  almost  unconsciously 
rose  to  his  library.  The  old  man  broke  out  in  a  laugh,  and 
said  that  he  had  not  intended  to  drive  him  to  his  books  so 
soon,  as  the  old  bachelor  was  in  "  Bracebridge  Hall." 

"  I  am  not  ready  to  leave  you  yet,  James.  I  have  not 
asked  you  all  that  I  wished  to  know.  How  is  my  very  favor- 
ite from  childhood,  Laura  Brandon,  getting  along?  You 
have  scarcely  mentioned  her  name." 

"She  is  as  pretty  as  ever,  even  grows  sweeter-looking; 
and  really  more  easily  graceful  and  agreeable,  than  any  of 
the  girls  over  there,  I  think,  which  is  saying  a  great  deal 
for  me;  and  just  as  you  said,  I  should  be  much  aston- 
ishe'd,  if  she  and  young  Brandon  did  not  get  up  some  few 
love-passages  yet ;  they  were  much  together,  and  seemed 
highly  delighted  with  each  otli^r.  But  you  don't  think 
the  mother  would  consent  to  anything  of  the  kind  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  know  she  would  not.  Campbell  will  suit  them 
both  better ;  from  what  I  have  heard  of  Campbell,  he  is  a  fine 
young  fellow,  but  then  Henry  Brandon  is  worth  a  battalion 
of  him.  But  let  me  ask  after  our  young  friend  the  Doctor, 
how  is  he  doing  over  there  ?  I  hear  him  frequently  speak 
of  Julia  Hunter :  is  she  the  bright  particular  star  of  his 
devotion  ?  " 

"Yes;  I  think  the  Doctor  supposed  himself  sent  for,  to 
attend  to  her  particular  case,  and  he  did  his  full  duty." 


190  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  Well,  the  Doctor  is  a  nice,  deserving  young  man,  and 
she  is  a  very  nice  girl,  and  the  two  would  make  a  nice 
mutch.  But  how  about  Thomas  Hunter  and  Violet  Bran- 
don?" 

"  That  seems  to  be  a  well-settled  matter.  I  suppose  they 
will  marry  very  soon,  from  all  reports." 

"  Every  one  appears  to  be  doing  rather  better  than  my 
old  favorites,  Henry  and  Laura." 

"  I  don't  know,  they  seemed  very  happy  together." 

"  Ah !  they  will  have  trouble,  if  ever  they  call  each  other 
anything  but  cousin.  You  say  though,  he  was  w^ith  Mary 
Gray ;  that  rather  complicates  matters  a  little.  But  I  will 
leave  you  now,  James,  to  your  books  and  your  next  ser- 
mon," said  the  old  man  as  he  left. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

"  He  was  her  own,  her  ocean  treasure,  cast 
Like  a  rich  wreck  —  her  first  love,  and  her  last." 

HENRY  BRAXDOX  had  appeared  to  have  forgotten 
his  purpose  of  reading  law ;  and  between  cousins, 
home,  and  Thomas  Hunter,  his  time  seemed  speeding  along 
most  joyously.  The  cloud  gradually  thickened  around  the 
brow  of  Mrs.  Robert  Brandon,  as  his  easy  intercourse  with 
Laura  had  appeared  to  increase  ;  but  as  he  purposely  ab- 
stained from  the  commission  of  any  ouvert  act,  he  disre- 
garded as  yet  the  threatenings  of  the  coming  storm. 

Both  of  the  young  people  seemed  satisfied  with  the  ex- 
isting relationship,  and  both  feared  any  positive  change. 
Laura  played  a  little  shy  of  receiving  any  direct  declara- 
tion from  him,  as  he  would  sometimes  approach  the  subject, 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  191 

in  a  manner  though,  that  perfectly  satijified  him  of  his 
place  in  her  heart. 

The  contemplated  marriage  of  Hunter  and  Violet  was 
now  an  aclyiowledged  thing,  and  preliminary  arrangements 
hud  actually  begun  for  the  wedding. 

Young  Brandon  saw  Mr.  Campbell  more  frequently,  and 
was  beginning  to  have  a  higher  appreciation  of  him. 

In  connection  with  Violet's  preparations,  Laura  and 
Lucy  had  appointed  when  they  would  come  over  and  spend 
a  day  or  two  with  her.  This  Henry  was  informed  of,  which 
he  took  advantage  of,  and  despatched  a  note  by  Essex  to 
Hunter,  requesting  him  to  come  over  next  morning  as  he 
wished  to  see  him.  He  then  wrotfe  to  Campbell,  by  his 
friend  "  Sam  Brandon,"  informing  him  of  all  the  facts,  and 
to  be  sure  and  come  out  and  spend  the  day  with  him.  Next 
day,  not  long  after  Laura  and  Lucy  had  arrived,  Hunter 
rode  up,  and  not  a  great  while  after,  Mr,  Campbell  came. 
Violet  and  her  mother,  not  knowing  that  it  was  through 
Henry's  agency  that  they  had  come,  treated  their  visits 
as  a  very  agreeable  contretemps.  A  suspicion  to  the  con- 
trary, however,  soon  obtained  among  the  girls,  from  some 
remark  of  Henry's,  but  required  no  apology. 

It  was  the  last  day  of  October,  and  a  happier  one  was 
never  to  be  passed  by  that  joyous  little  company.  One 
there  was  of  the  number,  whose  wit,  mirth,  and  gladsorae- 
ness  that  day,  glittered  with  the  flashing,  sparkling  freshness 
of  morning  dew  on  the  tinted  rose.  It  was  "  Love's  vounf? 
dream,"  that  flung  a  soft  effulgence  on  a  flushing  heart, 
which  drooped  and  paled  in  its  beauty  and  joy,  ere  time 
had  cast  its  shadows  there.  The  day  had  been  genial  and 
lovely,  and  its  evening  gentleness  was  only  too  commem- 
orative of  the  sad  stillness  of  its  closing  hour.  As  the 
sun  went  sinking  down  the  sky,  it  shed  upon  the  wide  lawn 
in  front  of  "  Buckhorns  "  a  sea  of  golden  light,  as  soft  as 
the  hopeless  languor  of  dying  love.     The  appearance  of  it, 


192  ELOOM    A>'D     BRIER. 

all  in  an  instant,  appeared  to  attract  the  attention  of  Henry- 
Brandon,  who  at  once  proposed  they  should  take  a  walk 
in  due  honor  to  the  last  October  sun,  saying,  "  there  had 
never  been  so  sweet  a  one,  since  great  Caesar  Jiad  set  the 
calendar  to  its  present  measure,  or  so  pretty  a  one  for  mak- 
ing love,  since  the  gay  old  Roman  had  walked  the  streets 
of  Tarsus  with  its  bewitching  queen." 

"  Your  ecstasy  deserves  success,  Henry,  whether  it  meets 
with  it  or  not,"  said  Hunter ;  "  with  one  or  two  more  such 
efforts  you  will  gain  your  point." 

"  Here  goes  then  —  since  Cupid  in  his  small  cloth  nes- 
tled in  his  nurse's  arms,  or  love  -  lorn  Leander  dared  the 
swelling  waves  of  Hellespont." 

"  That  will  do  —  we  v/ill  not  crack  your  capacity,  bu  t  take 
the  walk."  The  proposition  was  then  accepted,  and  all 
proceeded  to  leave  the  house.  It  was  not  long  before  they 
separated  in  pairs  —  Henry,  of  course,  with  Laura  —  and 
had  not  gone  far  before  each  party  had  established  con- 
siderable distance  between  itself  and  another. 

Henry  and  Laura  had  not  more  than  half-way  reached 
the  extremity  of  the  lawn,  when  he  said  to  her  : 

"Laura,  I  purposely  proposed  this  walk,  just  to  get  a 
suitable  opportunity  to  make  a  most  eloquent  speech  to  your 
ladyship,  which  I  have  been  nearly  bursting  with,  for  more 
than  a  month ;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  I  am  at  length 
threatened  with  —  combustion,  if  I  do  not  get  relief  in  ex- 
pression." Then,  half  turning  in  a  sort  of  tragico-comico 
attitude,  said  —  "  Now,  hear  me,  lady,  for  my  cause." 

"  Certainly,  cousin,"  she  replied,  laughing,  "  if  it  will 
prevent  such  a  dire  catastrophe  —  not  only  so,  but  should 
I  return  without  an  attendant,  I  should  necessarily  be  ac- 
cused of  complicity  in  your  mysterious  disappearance  — 
proceed." 

"  Good,  my  lady ;  and  you  promise  to  lend  a  willing 
ear?" 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  193 

"  I  do,  my  lord." 

•*  But  even  with  that  consent,  I  have  resolved  to  fly  into 
iiNisible  atoms,  unless  you  also  allow  me  to  oratorize  on 
my  own  stipulations ;  do  you  accede  to  that  proposition 
also?" 

"  I  do,  unless  too  severely  exactinj^." 

"  It  is  merely  that  you  do  not  interrupt  me." 

*'  That  is  truly  a  very  hard  exaction  to  make  of  a  woman ; 
but  then  to  prevent  so  unfortunate  an  event  as  you  threaten, 
and  too,  for  the  pleasure  of  the  eloquence,  I  consent  to  that 
too.  You  will  at  least  allow  me  the  privilege  of  looking 
assent  or  dissent?  " 

"  No  ;  not  even  that  to  any  intensified  extent.  I  only 
desire  an  audience  of  the  simplest  form.  Now,  which  do 
you  choose  —  the  speech,  or  eternal  silence  ?  Under  which 
king  —  speak  or  —  not  ? " 

"  Oh  !  under  such  dreadful  alternatives  —  the  speech,  of 
coui-se.  I  should  never  otherwise  hope  for  forgiveness," 
said  she  laughing. 

With  a  mock  reverential  air  he  began  —  "Oh,  Cupid! 
oh,  Venus  !  and  all  ye  little  viewless  spirits  that  have  small 
offices  in  the  gorgeous  court  of  Love !  Now,  hear  ye  my 
prayer,  and  prosper  me  my  suit !  Oh  !  plume  my  wing  for 
the  loftiest  flight  into  your  highest  happiest  realms ;  and 
let  me  there  record,  in  letters  of  eternal  light  and  truth,  the 
sacred  secret  of  my  heart  and  life !  'T  is  that  I  —  love  my 
—  cousin!"  Then  suddenly  turning,  said:  "Now,  by  the 
shade  of  Apollo,  I  must  have  reward  for  that  splendid  dash 
of  eloquent  love,"  and  placing  his  arm  around  her  waist, 
he  kissed  the  glowing  cheek  of  the  blushing,  happy  girl. 

"NVith  eyes  beaming  with  light,  and  truth,  and  love,  and 
mirth,  she  refusing  to  consent  —  consented — gave  the  kiss, 
and  yielded  up  her  heart  forever ! 

Choking  for  utterance,  she  at  length  found  words  to 
say,  "Cousin,  cousin  !  why,  oh,  why,  did  you  tell  me  this? 


194  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Why  not  have  left  ray  life  to  pass  smoothly  along  in  its 
nameless  bliss?  Why  not  have  left  my  girlhood's  joyous 
dream  to  slumber  still  in  my  woman's  breast?" 

With  his  arm  still  around  her,  and  her  hand  in  his, 
he  pressed  her  gently  to  his  side,  as  she  spoke  these  pas- 
sionate, hopeless  words.  Both  seemed  to  comprehend  the 
relation  in  which  they  were  to  stand  for  the  future,  and 
for  some  seconds  remained  silent.    She  presently  continued  : 

"  Cousin,  you  will  forgive  me,  I  know,  for  giving  way  to 
my  feelings ;  but  your  singular  manner  of  approach  to  so 
serious  a  subject  —  and  one  that  I  have  long  known  was 
so  near  to  us  both  —  betrayed  me  into  a  response  which 
probably  I  should  not  have  made  so  madly." 

"  Ah,  ha !  "  said  he  —  and  at  once  destroying  the  form- 
ality of  the  occasion  — "  you  intended  to  keep  the  ad- 
vantage of  position,  my  lady-love  !  " 

"  No,  cousin,  I  wished  no  advantage,  any  more  than  I 
know  you  wish  it  of  me ;  but  then,  perhaps,  a  girl  owes 
something  to  delicacy,  even  when  she  has  perfect  confi- 
dence." 

"Probably  she  does;  but  you  have  not  violated  it,  that 
I  can  see  ;  for  I  certainly  would  not  have  betrayed  you 
into  doing  so." 

"  I  am  glad  you  say  that,  as  I  feared  you  might  think 
differently.     But  I  know^  you  would  not  deceive  me." 

"  Laura,  your  caution  shows  apprehension ;  and  now 
that  we  perfectly  know  each  other's  feelings,  tell  me  fully 
the  nature  of  it." 

"  I  certainly  have  very  great  apprehension,  and  thought 
you  knew  the  source  of  it." 

"  Is  it  that  an  engagement  between  us  will  not  meet  the 
approval  of  your  parents  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  it,  particularly  that  of  mother." 

"What  course  have  you  then  thought  of  pursuing, 
Laura  ? " 


BLOOM     A.ND    BRIER.  195 

'*  I  cannot  answer  you  now  —  the  question  is  too  new." 

"  Have  your  feelings,  then,  any  qualification?" 

"  Your  question  does  me  injustice,  cousin  ;  but  as  I  have 
expressed  some  hesitation  in  answering  your  first  one,  it  is 
perhaps  due  to  us  both  that  I  should  now  tell  you  that 
your  image,  and  onlif  yours,  has  ever,  gently,  but  indelibly, 
trembled  on  my  heart.  If  it  knows,  or  has  ever  known, 
the  sacred  feeling  of  love,  you  are  its  source  and  its  pos- 
sessor; and  if  you  do  not  dou})t  me  now,  you  never  will." 

"  Thank  you,  Laura,  for  these  confiding  words.  And 
now  let  me  speak  boldly  and  sincerely  for  myself,  that  for 
the  future  there  may  be  no  doubts  between  us.  It  is  no 
secret  to  you,  that  all  my  life  I  have  been  called  wild,  fickle, 
inconstant,  and  a  young  person  of  great  levity.  In  all 
these  things  the  charge  has  been  superficially  correct;  yet, 
intrinsically,  I  knew  it  to  be  incorrect.  I  have  often  per- 
mitted myself  to  pass  for  what  I  knew  I  was  not  —  par- 
tially through  indifference,  and  in  something,  to  a  conceal- 
ment of  facts  which  I  thought  no  one  had  a  right  to  know, 
which  I  did  not  see  proper  to  express.  As,  for  instance, 
since  my  return  home,  there  has  scarcely  been  a  moment 
of  seriousness  in  ray  manner  to  you;  and  yet  the  instant 
almost  that  I  first  saw  you,  after  our  long  separation,  the  feel- 
ing of  the  boy  rushed  upon  the  man,  and  I  loved  you  with 
all  the  tenderness  and  earnestness  of  both  ;  and  though  I 
have  all  along  known  your  feelings,  habit  and  whim  made 
me  keep  up  the  partial  disguise  to  others,  but  not  to  you." 

Laura  here  interrupted  him  by  asking  if  Lucy  had  never 
told  him  anything  in  regard  to  her. 

"  Yes,  she  has ;  but  not  before  I  was  assured  myself  of 
your  feelings  toward  me." 

"  Then,  cousin,  I  must  have  been  incautious  —  too  much 
so." 

"Oh,  no,"  he  pleasantly  replied,  as  he  playfully  patted 
her  on  the  cheek ;  "  it  was  a  fair  game  between  us,  and 


196  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

why  not  you  receive  the  arrow  of  the  rosy  god  as  soon  as 
I  ?  But  let  me  say  on.  With  all  this  levity,  my  feelings 
have  been  undivided  in  their  devotion,  and  my  purpose 
resolute;  and  there  is  nothing  now  can  make  me  yield. 
It  therefore  appears  to  me,  that  if  your*  are  as  unqualified, 
there  is  no  opposition  on  earth  that  will  prevent  you  from 
promising  to  be  mine." 

These  last  words  brought  a  chill  to  Laura's  heart,  as, 
in  the  whole  course  of  her  life,  she  had  never  contemplated 
an  act  of  wilful  disobedience  to  her  parents ;  on  the  con- 
trary, both  as  a  matter  of  religious  duty  and  of  social  habit 
and  training,  she  thought  it  even  wrong  to  consider  its  pos- 
sibility. 

Looking  him  calmly  in  the  face,  as  he  concluded  his 
words,  she  said  to  him  : 

"  Cousin,  you  should  not  make  such  an  insinuation,  after 
what  I  have  said  to  you.  The  promises,  too,  are  to  honor 
and  obedience  ;  and  if  you  will  allow  me  to  claim  a  proper 
delicacy,  I  will  say  that  I  have  given  you  every  evidence 
of  no  ordinary  feeling  ;  and  as  you  have  been  so  plain  in 
the  expression  of  your  own,  I  will  do  the  same,  and  re- 
assure you,  that  neither  as  girl  or  woman  has  any  other 
name  than  yours  cast  the  faintest  shadow  on  my  life ; 
and  now,  whether  right  or  wrong,  for  grief  or  gladness,  I 
tell  you,  if  ever  one  heart  was  entirely  anothar's,  Laura 
Brandon's  belongs  to  you — how,  or  why,  or  when,  I  scarce 
can  tell,  yet  it  is  as  I  have  said  ;  "  then,  stepping  a  little 
to  his  front,  with  an  expression  of  truth  and  purity  and 
innocence  in  her  eye,  never  to  be  forgotten  any  more  than 
heaven's  own  bright  stars  shall  cease  to  float  in  beauty 
upon  the  azure  sky,  she  continued :  "  And,  cousin,  hav- 
ing gone  so  far  as  I  have,  let  me  all  unveil  to  you  the 
workings  of  my  bosom.  You  may  treat  the  treasure  as 
you  will ;  but  this  heart  which  I  have  this  day  given  to 
you,  can  never  be  another's.     Yet,  my  hand  may  never  be 


B  L  ()  ()  M     A  N  1)     h  H  I  E  R  .  1  97 

yours  more  tlian  as  I  give  it  now.     Will  you  receive  it  as 
i  give  it  ? " 

Henry  took  the  proffered  hand,  and  affectionately  sealed 
it  with  a  kiss  of  love  and  truth  that  time  never  cancelled 
from  his  memory. 

During  this  conversation,  they  had  been  entirely  out  of 
view  from  those  who  had  left  the  house  with  them,  and 
as  Laura  made  her  last  remark,  she  proposed  returning. 
Henry  offered  her  his  arm,  and  they  began  slowly  to  retrace 
their  steps,  talking  more  calmly  of  the  subject  which  now 
engrossed  their  thoughts. 

*'  Laura,  this  evening's  scenes  can  never  be  erased  from 
the  history  of  our  lives,  and  yet  they  scarcely  bring  that 
joy  which  they  should." 

"  That  they  may  not  now,  cousin,  yet  we  will  hope  for 
more  brightness  in  the  future." 

"  What  course  must  I  adopt  —  speak  to  uncle  Robert  ?  " 

"No;  I  prefer  not  at  present:  just  let  the  matter  go 
along  for  a  while,  and  perhaps  the  prospect  will  grow  more 
promising.  I  have  not  the  courage  to  let  it  be  mentioned 
just  now." 

"  Why  ?  it  can  only  still  be  opposed." 

"I  know;  but  even  that  seems,  if  openly  done,  to  be 
more  than  I  can  bear,  as  mother  and  father  have  yet  to 
oppose  me  in  the  first  wish  of  my  heart,  so  far  as  I  can 
remember." 

"Why  do  you  think,  then,  they  will  oppose  you  now?" 

"  For  several  reasons  —  first,  I  have  often  heard  mother 
express  her  disapproval  of  the  marriage  of  cousins;  and 
then,  they  will  be  apt  to  think  you  too  young  and  unsettled 
in  your  notions ;  again,  that  our  attachment  is  too  recent 
to  be  lasting ;  and  quite  as  much  as  all,  cousin,  they,  in. 
common  with  many  others,  think  you  wild,  reckless,  and 
high-tempered." 

"  But  you  do  not  regard  these  things  ?  " 
17* 


198  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"No;  else  why  should  I  have  said  what  I  have,  and 
received  your  caresses  ?  " 

"  Well,  well,  Laura ;  we  can  at  least  be  old-fashioned 
sweethearts  for  a  while  longer ;  so  let  me  fancy  that  I  have 
turned  back  on  our  young  school-days,  and  do,  as  I  used 
often  to  do,  as  we  parted  in  the  evening,"  and  suiting  the 
action  to  the  word,  kissed  her  smiling  rosy  lips;  and  the 
woman  yielded  with  the  confidence  and  sweet  innocence  of 
the  girl. 

They  had  now  recovered  from  all  excitement,  and  ap- 
peared as  happy  and  guileless  as,  indeed,  they  ever  had  in 
their  school-days.  About  to  come  again  in  sight  of  the 
house,  Henry  observed  that  Laura's  hair  was  a  little  dis- 
placed, and  said,  "  Stop,  stop,  Laura  ;  this  beautiful  hair  of 
yours  has  fallen  down ;  let  me  act  as  coiffeur  de  cheveux." 

"  Cousin,  your  French  is  abominable ;  t)ut  I  will  let  you 
adjust  my  hair,  as  that  is  what  I  suppose  you  mean." 

Henry  laughed  heartily  at  his  French,  and  said:  "Yes, 
yes,  that  is  what  I  mean  ;  for  whether  my  French  is  good 
or  bad,  those  impudent  girls  would,  as  soon  as  not,  accuse 
you  of  having  had  my  arm  around  you,  which  you  know 
is  not  so  —  is  it  ?  " 

The  happy  girl  looked  him  innocently  in  the  face  as  he 
replaced  her  hair,  and  said  : 

"  I  can  scarcely  say,  cousin,  what  has  happened  within 
the  last  half-hour ;  it  looks  like  a  dream  of  joy,  that  I 
almost  fear  to  ask,  lest  in  asking,  I  may  find  it  fled." 

"  Oh,  no,  Laura ;  we  will  have  it  more  than  a  dream." 

They  now  walked  on  to  the  house,  where  Hunter  and 
Campbell,  with  the  two  other  girls,  stood  waiting  for  them. 

"  Where  have  you  two  been,  and  what  have  you  found 
to  talk  about?"  said  Violet,  as  they  came  up. 

"  Our  beaux  gave  out  half  an  hour  since,  both  in  strength 
and  conversation,  and  we  were  forced  to  return  in  pure 
self-defence,"  added  Lucy. 


BLOOM     AND     B  R  I  P:  R  .  199 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  you,  nor  your  beaux  either,  have  any  of  the 
divine  afflatus." 

*'  But  do  tell  us,  Laura,  wliat  this  bri;^ht  genius  of  a 
brother  of  mine  has  found  to  entertain  you  with,''  her  eye 
twinkling  with  fun  as  she  spoke.  "  Has  he  been  telling 
you  of  some  of  his  glowing  visions  of  future  glory  and 
greatness,  which  are  to  begin  on  the  first  day  that  he  opens 
*  Blackstone,'  I  believe  he  calls  it  —  if  that  ever  comes  — 
which  I  begin  to  doubt.  Or  has  he  been  enlarging  on  the 
beauties  of  Miss  Gray ;  or  has  he  been  indulging  in  a  little 
sentiment,  with  your  own  sweet  self  for  the  subject?  Come, 
tell  us,  for  I  know  there  is  a  tale  to  unfold,  or  has  been 
unfolded." 

Laura  reddened  up  at  the  last  words  of  Violet,  but  before 
she  could  reply,  Henry  came  to  her  assistance : 

"Ah!  most  cruel  sister,  since  we  have  found  you  out  in 
your  sentimentalities,  you  wish  to  avenge  it  after  the  fashion 
of  the  fox  who  was  caught  in  the  steel-trap;  nevertheless, 
I'll  answer  for  Laura.  Yes,  I  have  been  making  up  a  small 
love-story  for  some  time  past,  and  this  evening  rehearsed 
a  few  of  the  chapters  —  any  objection?" 

At  this  bold  stroke  to  ward  off  suspicion,  Laura  colored 
so  deeply  as  to  occasion  Henry  to  add,  "  Come,  Laura,  if 
you  blush  so,  these  impudent  people  w^ill  thin^,  indeed,  that 
I  have  been  making  love  to  you,  and  that  you  accepted 
me."  He  then  quickly  added,  by  way  of  changing  the 
subject  —  "Come,  it  is  quite  cool  for  thinly  dressed  young 
ladies — let  us  go  in  the  house  and  finish  the  examination." 

There  was  a  small  fire  burning.  The  lamps  were  soon 
brought  in,  and  the  remainder  of  the  evening  was  passed 
most  delightfully  to  them  all,  in  music,  dancing,  etc.,  and 
perhaps,  a  little  more  love-making. 


200  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

CHAPTER   XXX. 

"  Lay  not  that  flattering  unction  to  your  soul." 

IN  November  of  this  year  the  Presidential  election  was 
over,  and  the  great  quadrennial  excitement  of  the 
American  Republic  had  again  subsided  into  quiet.  The 
people  were  once  more  pursuing,  with  their  usual  peace- 
fulness  and  energy,  the  various  occupations  of  life,  while 
all  parties  had  equally  submitted  to  the  decisfon  of  the 
ballot-box.  There  was  but  a  grim  resignation  on  the  part 
of  the  Whig3.  Their  great  leader  had  again  been  defeated, 
and  with  his  fall  fell  the  last  remnant  of  political  decency 
and  intelligence  that  had  remained  to  the  republican  United 
States.  Every  intelligent  Whig  felt  and  knew  that  jBnal 
oblivion  was  to  overtake  many  long-cherished  principles 
and  the  general  conservative  policy  of  their  party,  which 
had  ever  exerted  its  strength  in  the  effort  to  influence  the 
administration  of  the  Government.  It  was  now  universally 
conceded  by  its  friends  that  its  power  and  tone  was  forever 
gone,  and  that  the  destinies  of  the  Government  were 
completely  in  the  hands  of  the  wild,  reckless  multitude, 
which  was  led  by  men  as  wild,  reckless,  and  wellnigh  as 
poorly  informed  as  themselves,  and  far  more  corrupt.  To 
hold  power,  however  unworthily,  and  however  unworthily 
obtained,  appeared  to  be  the  leading  idea  with  the  best  of 
them.  The  canvass  against  Mr.  Clay  thoroughly  repre- 
sented the  character  of  the  Democratic  party  of  that  day, 
marked  as  it  was  by  all  manner  of  reckless  and  unscru- 
pulous assertions  touching  every  act  of  his  public  life,  and 
in  many  matters,  of  his  private  life. 

Discussions  of  measures  with  which  he  was  identified 
were  not  conducted  with  a  view  to  developing  truth,  but 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  201 

uith  a  predetermined  purpose  of  suppressing  it,  and  of 
exciting  the  prejudices  of  the  masses  against  him. 

Their  favorite  charge  against  the  Whig  party,  and  a 
very  eflective  one,  too,  before  the  masses,  was  that  of  its 
Federalism.  Tiie  charge  itself  was  not  discussed  as  a 
question,  but  advanced  as  a  loathsome  stigma  ;  and  while 
it  answered  every  purpose  of  exciting  the  prejudices  of  the 
people,  was  as  little  comprehended  by  them  as  by  the  wild 
Bedouins  of  the  desert. 

The  charge  itself  was  true,  in  contradistinction  to  the 
absurd,  double- back -action  theories  of  the  State -Rights 
school,  which  had  naturally  grown  out  of  that  idea  com- 
mon to  all  republican  governments,  that  central  authority 
is  necessarily  despotic ;  and  from  that  other,  too,  which 
had  taken  such  strong  root  in  this  country,  of  the  people 
being  capable  of  se/f-government.  These  social  and  polit- 
ical fallacies,  dangerous  to  the  order  and  peace  of  society 
even  with  a  limited  application,  had  been  first  suggested 
by  Mr.  Jefferson,  afterward  assuming  shape  in  the  Resolu- 
tions '98  -  '99,  and  then  carried  to  the  cxtreraest  abuse  by 
the  statesmen  (?)  of  South  Carolina.  They  were,  howfever, 
very  flattering  to  the  vanity  of  the  people,  who  responded 
by  keeping  those  in  power  who  advocated  them. 

Now,  in  1869,  behold  the  wisdom  of  the  idea!  Come 
and  look  in  upon  us,  all  ye  outside  world,  and,  in  the 
wretchedness,  poverty,  humiliations  and  degradations  of 
the  brave-hearted  but  misguided  South,  see  the  capacity 
of  men  for  self-government!  Look  at  the  almost  open 
corruption  in  high  places,  and  view  for  yourselves  this 
tremendous  capacity ! 

Every  government  should  have  the  unqualified  power 
to  rule  all  its  parts,  but  running  parallel  with  it  should  be 
the  obligation  to  protect  them.  Every  other  is  only  an 
absurdity,  and  a  premium  to  revolution. 

The  theory  of  self-government  does  very  well  for  the 


202  BLOOM     AXD     BRIER. 

majority  ;  but  woe  be  unto  the  minority  !  In  the  case  of 
the  United  States,  the  North  was  largely  the  majority  sec- 
tion ;  and  while  it  had  committed  every  conceivable  polit- 
ical excess,  and  every  possible  trespass  upon  the  social 
sentiments  and  domestic  and  political  rights  of  the  South, 
under  the  cover  of  State  rights  and  the  right  of  self-gov- 
ernment, there  was  no  power  adequate  to  its  punishment. 
But  when  the  feeble  South,  with  every  equity  on  its  side, 
attempted  to  redress  itself  by  a  sort  of  negative  movement 
only,  this  same  imperious  horde,  from  brothel  to  sanctuary, 
rolled  up  the  whites  of  its  eyes  in  patriotic  horror  for  the 
violence  done  the  ''flag" 

Right  for  the  nonce,  say  we,  was  this  self-governing  ma- 
jority, if  only  by  accident,  or  from  hate;  and  had  its  char- 
acter been  equal  to  the  cause,  the  South  would  indeed  have 
been  crushed  back  to  its  place  "  in  ninety  days,"  and  hav- 
ing done  that,  might  have  corrected  all  the  complained-of 
evils.  But,  out  upon  ye,  ye  great  self-governing  majority  ! 
Shame  upon  the  chivalry  that  required  a  world  of  numbers 
four  years  to  assert  itself  against  a  handful ! 

Henry  Brandon  had  previously  resolved  not  to  begin  his 
law  reading  until  after  the  great  election  was  over  with, 
and  all  its  excitement  had  died  away.    His  appointed  time 

for  doing  so  had  now  come,  and  he  was  on  his  way  to , 

for  the  purpose  of  seeing  Judge  Lorn,  with  a  view  to  read- 
ing in  his  office.  Judge  Lorn  was  an  old  family  friend, 
and  a  gentleman  almost  as  greatly  distinguished  for  his 
eccentricities  as  for  his  classical,  literary,  and  legal  attain- 
ments, and  was  at  this  time  in  full  practice. 

As  Henry  entered  his  office,  the  Judge,  rather  more  than 
was  usual  for  him  to  do,  rose  and  met  him  cordially.  After 
some  general  conversation,  young  Brandon  spoke  to  him  in 
regard  to  his  purpose  in  calling.  The  excellent  old  gen- 
tleman told  him  that  his  uncle  had  already  spoken  to  him 
in  regard  to  it,  "  and  I  have  told  him  that  I  would  take 


BI.OOM     AND     BRIER.  203 

much  pleasure  in  having  you  for  a  student,  and  was  ready 
to  receive  you  whenever  you  saw  proper  to  come." 

Henry  said  to  him  that  he  would  be  ready  the  next 
morning. 

"  The  sooner  the  better,  in  such  cases,  Brandon." 

Young  Brandon  made  his  arrangements  during  the  day 
for  coming  to  the  city,  and  returned  to  his  mother's  that 
night  with  a  view  to  a  final  departure  —  which  he  did  the 
next  morning,  never  to  return  again  as  a  regufar  member 
of  her  fiimily. 

Going  back  again  to  the  city,  he  completed  his  arrange- 
ments, and  reported  at  Judge  Lorn's  office.  The  Judge 
asked  him  in  a  few  moments,  if  he  desired  to  go  through 
only  a  short  course  of  reading  preparatory  to  entering  the 
practice,  or  did  he  wish  to  pursue  the  study  as  a  science, 
from  which  all  principles  for  the  regulation  of  society  and 
the  direction  of  government  emanated. 

Brandon  replied,  that  he  did  not  desire  to  enter  upon 
the  practice  very  soon,  and  would  therefore  prefer  a  more 
liberal  course. 

"I  am  glad,"  said  the  Judge,  "  to  hear  you  say  that,  as 
it  is  the  first  time  in  years  I  have  heard  of  any  such  wish. 
Most  young  men  that  have  been  with  me  for  several  years 
past,  seemed  anxious  for  the  small  practice."  He  continued 
his  conversation  by  saying  that  "  most  students  begin  the 
study  with  the  commentaries  of  Blackstone,  which,  though 
the  very  best  compendium  of  the  English  law%  are  yet  but 
a  compendium,  and  argue  quite  an  advanced  intimacy  with 
the  history  of  England  and  of  Europe,  which  very  few 
young  men  have  in  this  country ;  an  uninformed  student, 
therefore,  loses  much  of  their  real  value.  For  that  reason 
I  would  advise  the  laying  of  a  good  historical  foundation, 
before  entering  upon  Blackstone,  or  any  of  the  short-cut 
text-books." 

Beginning  to  rather  regret  his  temerity  in  saying  to  the 


204  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Judge  tliat  he  preferred  a  liberal  course,  he  rather  cautiously 
asked  him  — 

"  What  work  would  you  recommend,  Judge,  that  I  should 
begin  with  ?  " 

"I  would  propose  Robertson's  Charles  the  Fifth,  as  one 
of  the  chastest  and  most  elegant  of  English  authors ;  and 
his  history  of  Charles  embraces  one  of  the  most  important 
periods  in  European  history." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  I  have  read  that,  partly  in  connection 
with  the  historical  course  at  college." 

"  So  much  the  better ;  you  will  now  read  it  the  more  in- 
telligently, and  with  greater  pleasure,  as  *I  dare  say  you 
were  not  very  critical  in  your  reading  of  it,  at  that  time." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  gave  it  a  very  thorough  reading,  and  still 
appreciate  it  as  one  of  the  finest  works  in  the  whole  roll 
of  history.  The  language  is  clear,  elegant,  and  strong,  with- 
out any  affectation  whatever;  and  presents  among  other 
things  the  most  intelligible  view  of  the  feudal  law,  and  the 
progress  of  society  from  the  period  of  the  Roman  power, 
up  to  the  time  of  Charles  —  that  I  know." 

Henry  Brandon  said  all  this  to  convince  the  Judge  that 
he  had  read  the  work,  as  he  was  trembling  at  the  probable 
length  of  the  course  v.hich  he  would  suggest ;  acknowledg- 
ing to  himself  that  he  did  not  entertain  those  lofty  views 
of  the  profession  which  the  Judge  had  given  him  credit  fon 

"  Yes ;  I  see  that  you  appear  to  have  read  it  with  some 
care,  which  very  few  have.  Excuse  me  for  asking  you  a 
little  historical  question,  Mr.  Brandon." 

"  Certainly,  sir." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  what  occasion,  or  events,  gave  rise  to 
the  original  theory  of  a  '  balance  of  power,'  as  it  is  yet 
called  in  European  diplomacy  ?  " 

"  You  will  find  it  spoken  of  in  Robertson's  dissertation  on 
the  progress  of  society ;  and  the  immediate  occasion  of  the 
idea  was  the  invasion  of  the  Italian  States  by  Charles  VIII. 


BLOOM    AND    BKIER.  205 

of  France,  when  the  Italian  princes  confederated  for  the 
purpose  of  expelling  him  from  their  territories.  After- 
ward, in  the  course  of  the  wars  of  Charles  V.,  the  plan  of 
the  Italian  kings  grew  into  a  system." 

"  I  am  glad,  indeed,  to  find  that  you  have  read  this  great 
writer  so  carefully  —  he  is  a  favorite  author  with  me.  I 
have  found  few  young  men,  in  an  experience  of  forty  years, 
who  knew  anything  of  him,  and  I  remember  none  who 
could  have  answered  the  question  I  asked  you.  I  will, 
therefore,  suggest,  that  you  begin  with  '  Malthus  on  Popu- 
lation.' " 

"  What,  Judge  ?  "  said  Henry,  both  astonished  and  tre- 
pidated  to  the  ends  of  his  toes,  at  the  extent  and  antedi- 
luvian course  which  the  Judge  was  prescribing  for  him  — 
"  'Malthus  on  Population?'  " 

"Yes  ;  'Malthus  on  Population,'"  said  the  Judge,  very 
exultingly,  as  he  supposed  that  young  Brandon  knew  about 
as  much  of  Malthus  as  he  did  of  the  Koran,  or  the 
Talmud.     "  Have  you  ever  read  him?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  say  that  I  have ;  yet,  I  have  a  very  good 
idea  of  his  theory,  which  is  now  treated  as  entirely  obsolete 
— is  it  not?" 

"  Obsolete,  indeed !  No ;  it  is  as  true  as  any  mathe- 
matical demonstration,  or  axiom  in  philosophy." 

"  Then,  Judge,  you  must  think  the  Creator  made  a  mis- 
take, when  fashioning  man  and  the  earth." 

The  Judge,  a  little  nettled  at  the  remark,  replied : 

"  No,  I  do  not ;  does  n't  the  Bible  speak  of  the  end  of 
the  earth  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  believe  it  does ;  though  I  must  confess  to  have 
read  that  too  little  ;  but  I  suppose,  by  that,  and  by  Malthus, 
the  end  can  be  calculated  ? " 

"  No,  I  can't  see  the  exact  rationale  of  your  words." 

"Why,  Malthus  argues  and  demonstrates  in  his  way, 
that  the  natural  tendency  of  population  is  to  too  great 
18 


206  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

redundancy  for  the  capacity  of  the  earth  in  its  support ; 
and  the  necessary  conclusion  is,  that  at  a  certain  point  the 
human  race,  or  the  earth,  or  both,  must  or  will  give  way, 
and  this  period  we  can  easily  arrive  at  by  arithmetical 
calculation,  taking  the  present  population  and  its  increase 
for  a  given  time,  and  the  arable  area  of  the  earth  for 
data." 

"Ah,  but  you^make  no  allowance  for  'wars,  pestilence, 
and  famine,'  and  the  tides  of  emigration,  etc." 

Henry  Brandon  came  nigh  bursting  out  in  laughter,  as 
he  now  saw  an  instance  of  that  eccentricity  of  the  Judge 
for  which  he  was  so  noted.  But  the  Judge  himself  preserved 
the  most  dignified  gravity,  while  Henry  Brandon  replied  : 

"  Why,  sir,  the  modern  theory  is  all  but  the  reverse  of 
Malthus's,  and  rather  borders  on  the  idea  that  the  denser 
the  population  the  better  the  human  family  is  supported, 
provided  industry  and  intelligence  keep  pace  with  the 
increase." 

"  Mistake,"  dryly  said  the  Judge.  "My  observation  and 
experience  are  just  to  the  contrary." 

The  sun  was  now  setting,  and  Henry  rose  as  if  to  leave, 
when  the  Judge  said : 

"  Well,  Brandon,  if  I  don't  get  you  along  faster  than  I 
have  this  evening,  the  earth  will  be  likely  to  collapse  before 
you  get  to  the  Bar,  even  beginning  with  Blackstone ;  and 
as  it  is  too  late  to  begin  this  evening,  suppose  we  commence 
with  Blackstone  in  the  morning,  according  to  the  custom 
of  these  degenerate  days." 

The  following  morning,  according  to  appointment,  Henry 
met  the  Judge  at  his  office,  and  not  many  minutes  trans- 
pired before  he  was  installed  as  a  law  student  of  Judge 
Lorn. 

He  fell  very  easily  into  the  old  harness  of  study,  and  all 
his  levity  at  once  left  him.  Indeed,  levity  was  but  the 
feather  to  the  arrow — more  an  assumption  than  an  organic 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  207 

feature  of  character.  Levity,  in  perrions  of  intellect,  is 
often  but  an  exaggeration  of  health  and  animal  spirits. 
Such  persons,  too,  almost  universally  possess  more  of  the 
finer  sympathies  and  higher  attributes  than  those'  who 
frown  upon  them. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

"All  wanton  as  a  child,  skipping  and  vain." 

YOUNG  Brandon  had  now  been  in  the  office  of  Judge 
Lorn  nearly  two  weeks,  and  had  found  his  time  so 
agreeably  taken  up  in  conversing  with  him,  and  in  his  new 
study,  that  he  appeared  to  have  but  little  time  or  desire  to 
visit  the  country,  and  was  very  constantly  to  be  found  in 
his  place.  His  mother  and  sister  had  been  to  the  city,  and 
he  had  promised  them  to  go  out,  but  had  not  yet  done  so. 
His  cousins  he  had  not  seen  ;  but  Mr.  Robert  Brandon  had 
that  morning  been  to  the  city,  and  calling  upon  him,  found 
him  at  his  books.  Expressing  much  pleasure  at  seeing  him 
so  studious,  Henry  replied  : 

"  Why,  uncle,  that  is  nothing  n^w  for  me,  as  you  cer- 
tainly know;  but  I  believe  many  of  my  old  friends  are 
quite  astonished  that  I  am  not  found  spending  all  my  time 
in  the  gambling  and  drinking  saloons." 

"  Oh,  no,  Henry ;  you  are  quite  mistaken  in  regard  to 
your  friends :  they  are  only  pleased  to  find  you  so  diflferent 
from  most  young  men  of  the  day  who  have  fortunes." 

'*  Well,  uncle,  that  is  some  better  than  I  have  had  reason 
to  suspect.  I  fear,  though,  I  have  but  an  indifferent  repu- 
tation for  steadiness,  even  with  my*nighest  friends." 

"  I  hope  you  labor  under  an  entire  misapprehension, 
Henry,     /at  least  do  not  injure  you  by  such  a  thought." 

"  I  really  thank  you  for  what  you  say ;  though  I  must 


208  BLOOM    AND    BPwIER. 

tell  you  in  advance  that  I  cannot  say  what  the  reason  is. 
I  hope  you  will  excuse  me  for  speaking  as  I  have."  And 
then,  by  way  of  changing  the  subject  rather  than  in  any 
particular  relevance,  he  said :  "  Oh,  uncle,  though  I  have 
b5en  quite  busy  at  my  law-reading,  I  have  found  the  time  to 
read  Bulwer's  novel,  *  The  Last  of  the  Barons  ; '  one  that  I 
like  quite  as  well,  if  not  better,  than  any  I  have  ever  read  of 
his,  which  I  will  send  out  to  the  girls.  After  they  read  it, 
they  can  send  it  over  to  mother  and  Violet." 

"  Yes,  I  have  seen  some  notices  of  it,  and  should  think 
it  very  fine.  The  period  and  the  events  possess  great 
charms  even  in  the  dull  narration  of  history.  Hume,  how- 
ever, throws  around  them  all  tlie  brightness  of  romance." 

"Yes,  it  is  quite  as  interesting  as  you  may  suppose. 
Will  you  call  for  it  this  evening  ? " 

"  Ye«5,  if  you  haven't  it  here." 

"No  ;  it  is  at  my  room.  I  will  have  it  here  against  the 
time  you  are  ready  to  leave." 

Mr.  Brandon  called  that  evening,  as  he  was  in  his  car- 
riage to  go  home,  and  Henry  handed  him  the  book,  neatly 
wrapped  up  and  tied.  AVhile  riding,  Mr.  Brandon,  sup- 
posing it  not  improper,  thought  to  secure  the  only  oppor- 
tunity he  was  likely  to  have  of  looking  over  it ;  opened  the 
wrapper,  and  Avas  hastily  perusing  it,  when  a  neatly  folded 
and  well-filled  letter,  directed  to  Laura,  dropped  from  its 
leaves.  Picking  it  up,  and  looking  at  it  in  silence  for  a 
minute  or  two,  he  slowly  replaced  it,  and,  wrapping  up  the 
book,  sat  as  if  in  deep  thought  the  remainder  of  the  way 
home.  He  was  now  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  that  the 
suspicions  of  his  wife,  in  regard  to  an  attachment  between 
Henry  and  Laura,  really  existed.  What  course  to  pursue, 
knowing  her  unrelenting  opposition  to  such  a  marriage, 
was  now  a  new  source  of  anxiety. 

The  carriage  at  length  driving  up  to  his  own  gate,  and 
the  meeting  with  his  daughters,  who  had  come  out  for  that 


BLOOM     A  N  I)     B  R  I  K  U  .  209 

purpose,  wearing  joyous  and    welcoming   faces,  at   once 
seemed  to  dispel  all  previous  and  further  thought. 

After  answeriug  such  general  inquiries  about  friends 
and  affairs  in  the  city  as  may  easily  be  conjectured,  he 
handed  Laura  the  book  which  Henry  had  sent  her,  but 
telling  her  it  was  for  them  both,  he  believed,  and  afterward 
for  Violet. 

"  How  is  our  young  lawyer?  I  begin  to  wish  to  see  the 
gay  fellow^"  asked  Lucy. 

"  He  is  well,  and  studying  very  closely ;  and  told  me  to 
say  to  you  that  he  would  not  be  out  to  the  country  for  a 
week  or  two  longer.  I  did  not  ask  him  to  come  earlier,  as 
I  dislike  to  disturb  any  one  in  well-doing." 

These  simple  remarks  were  the  source  of  much  pleasure 
to  Laura,  who  now  watched  both  every  favorable  and  un- 
favorable word  that  was  spoken  in  connection  with  Henry, 
by  either  of  her  parents. 

"Father,"  said  Laura,  "since  Lucy  appears  over -bash- 
ful to  ask  after  Mr.  Campbell,  let  me  do  so ;  did  you  see 
the  young  gentleman?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  saw  him  —  was  in  his  office  —  he  is  well,  and 
sends  his  regards." 

"  We  are  obliged  to  him,"  she  replied  ;  and  left  for  her 
own  room,  for  the  purpose  of  opening  the  package,  confi- 
dently expecting  to  find  a  note  from  Henry  enclosed. 
Shutting  the  door  as  she  entered,  and  seating  herself  near 
the  window,  she  proceeded  to  open  it — glancing  only  a 
moment  at  the  title  of  the  book  —  at  once  held  it  up  and 
shook  the  leaves,  when  out  dropped  the  expected  note.  A 
second  scarcely  elapsed  before  she  had  it  open,  and  was  all 
insensible  to  everything  else  but  its  contents. 

She  had  read  and  re-read  it,  and  was  still  straining  her 
eyes  by  the  twilight  in  again  reading  it,  when  Lucy  entered. 

"  Why   on   earth    have    you    not   lighted   your    lamp, 
Laura?" 
18* 


210  BLOOM     AXD     BRIER. 

"  I  could  not  take  the  time  Lucy  ;  here  is  the  most  beau- 
tiful note  you  ever  read." 

"  I  should  think  so,  from  its  so  engrossing  your  attention 
as  to  prevent  your  thinking  of  a  light." 

"  Oh !  there  is  as  much  light  in  this,  as  in  a  world  of 
lamps." 

"  Indeed  !  Well,  suppose  you  let  me  have  the  advantage 
of  it,  to  assist  me  through  this  darkness." 

*' Yes,  I  Tvill ;  after  sufficiently  feasting  my  own  eyes." 

"  Why,  Laura,  I  believe  you  will  lose  your  senses  over 
cousin  Henry  yet." 

"No,  not  if  they  will  let  me  have  my  way." 

"  I  suppose  you  will  though,  if  you  do  not  get  it,  just  out 
of  spite?" 

"  I  fear  so,  most  truly  ;  but  not  out  of  spite.  Now,  just 
read  it,  Lucy,  and  say  if  I  am  not  right,"  at  the  same  time 
handing  Lucy  the  note,  who  by  this  time  had  set  a  lamp 
upon  the  table.     It  ran  as  follows : 

Room  Xo.  37,  December  Ist. 

"Dear  Laura, — I  have  forced  the  great  'king-maker' 
of  Edward's  reign,  from  his  high  estate  of  arbiter  between 
royal  lines,  into  the  more  beautiful,  if  not  more  magnifi- 
cent service  of  Love ;  and  from  being  the  bearer  of  Eng- 
land's crown  from  one  royal  head  to  another,  I  make  him 
the  bearer  of  a  missive  from  one  heart  to  another,  as  big 
with  the  fate  of  individuals  as  ever  was  his  lordly  will 
with  the  fate  of  kingdoms.  And  if  he  cannot  help  me  win  a 
woman's  hand,  and  place  a  Laural  (what  an  effort)  wreath 
upon  my  brow,  I  will  endeavor  to  tear  that  one  from  his 
own  brow,  which  history  has  so  honorably  placed  there,  and 
in  its  stead  hang  a  cypress  wreath.  With  the  threat  of  so 
dire  a  caiamity,.I  am  satisfied  that  the  'last  of  the  barons' 
will  execute  his  present  trust  most  faithfully,  and  bear  in 
most  diplomatic  style  this  missive  to  the  bower  of  Love  — 
to  my  sweet  Laura  Brandon.  Enough  of  exordium,  say 
you,  and'so  say  I;  and  for  your  pleasure  as  well  as  my  own, 
let  me  '  wreak  upon  expression '  something  of  my  heart's 
deep  love,  and  joy,  and  hope. 


BLOOM    AND     BRIER.  211 

"  When  I  left  the  beautiful  prairies,  it  was  really  a  source 
of  apprehension,  that  I  should  be  found  retracing  my  steps 
thitherward,  at  least  as  early  as  the  third  day  ;  if  not  in 
my  waking-liours,  at  least  in  some  somnambulic  excursion, 
to  the  presence  of  my  lady-love,  where  I  might  soothe  the 
throbbings  of  my  breast  in  the  pure  Dianic  fountains  that 
rise  in  hers.  During  the  passing  of  the  said  three  days,  the 
trial  to  my  nervous  system  was  terrible  indeed  ;  but  thanks 
to  a  finely  supplied  '  table  dliote'  and  perhaps,  too,  to  the 
presence  of  a  very  pretty  girl  who  has  sat  opposite  to  me 
for  several  days — between  whom  and  myself  there  have  been 
some  sly  glances  thrown  —  I  have  been  able  to  survive  not 
only  the  three  days',  but  near  three  weeks'  absence,  from  the 
light  of  your  eyes.  In  regard  to  the  said  young  lady,  and  the 
sly  glances  cast,  I  will  say,  that  her  striking  resemblance 
to  yourself  was  the  secret  of  my  pleasure;  so  let  me  beg 
you  to  be  calm.  Nonsense.  Well,  by  this,  or  by  that,  or 
by  nothing,  finding  that  my  amorial  fortitude  has  enabled 
rae  to  stand  up  against  all  temptation  for  this  near  three 
weeks,  I  have  resolved  to  put  it  to  the  test,  for  another  like 
period  of  self-torture. 

"  But,  really,  let  me  come  down  from  this  sort  of  love- 
scraping,  to  this  real  world  of  ours,  in  which  you  wonder 
why  it  is  that  I  have  not  allowed  myself  the  pleasure  of 
basking  in  the  sunny  light  of  your  lovely  smiles.  There  it 
is  again  !  I  meant,  allowed  myself  the  pleasure  of  visiting 
the  country,  and  why  it  is  that  I  have  resolved  on  a  fur- 
ther penance  of  absence.  Of  course,  I  must  answer  the 
supposed  question,  even  before  I  ask  why  it  is  that  you 
have  remained  away  so  long  from  this  great  metropolis, 
whose  presence  here  I  have  been  as  anxiously  expecting  as 
you  have  mine  in  the  ruralities  of  *  Starlight.'  Well,  first, 
I  have  been  right  down  at  my  books  —  book,  rather  —  in 
despite  of  all  the  tempt:^tions  of  the  Evil  One  and  Cupid 
too.  All  of  which,  both  study  and  temptation,  come  quite 
natural — often  dreaming,  however,  that  I  am  thus  pre- 
paring a  higher  worthiness  for  the  sweetest  girl  I  ever 
knew. 

"  But  in  real  good  earnest,  my  dear  Laura,  I  have  even 
been  more  than  anxious  to  see  you.  Thousands  of  things 
a  day  suggest  themselves  which  I  wish  to  say  to  you,  and 
Bometimes  can  scarce  resist  the  inclination  to  order  *  Sam  * 


212  BLOOM    AND    BRIE  11. 

to  bring  me  my  horse,  and  fly  to  your  presence;  but 
then  I  haven't,  ha!  ha!  But,  truly,  I  have  sometimes 
feared  that  my  absence  would  make  you  sing,  in  your  pen- 
sive hours,  that  '  Absence  conquers  love ; '  but  right  away 
my  heart  would  answer  with  the  refrain,  *  But  oh,  believe 
it  not ! '  and  at  once  check  the  apprehension  that  had  tried 
to  rise,  and  in  a  moment  more  would  feel  that  the  heart  of 
Laura  Brandon  could  cherish  no  fear  of  him  who  had 
loved  her  from  his  youth,  and  now  loves  her  in  every  hour 
of  his  manhood. 

"  Yes,  Laura,  the  little  clouds  that  throw  their  shadows 
on  our  hopes,  only  make  you  more  lovely  to  my  eye,  and 
dearer,  too,  to  my  heart,  than  if  the  heavens  were  all  blue, 
and  the  stars  all  bright,  and  every  meteor,  that  speeds  its 
trackless  flight  on  the  bosom  of  the  night,  were  a  sparkling 
promise  and  a  spangling  joy.  Bravo  !  How  do  you  like 
my  love  asseveration  ?  Every  word  true,  I  do  assure  you  ; 
but  not  half  the  truth.  In  full  accordance  with  which, 
I  am  on  my  very  best  behavior ;  indeed,  I  am  quite  senti- 
mental in  the  performance  of  this  role  —  and  all  to  please 
the  good  master  and  mistress  of  '  Starlight,'  with  a  slight 
credit  to  your  claim.  Oh,  that  these  aforesaid  good  people 
could  only  see  the  workings  and  good  intentions  that  move 
and  burn  in  my  anxious  breast !  They  would  clasp  me  to 
their  bosoms  forever.  At  least  let  me  clasp  my  own  sweet 
girl  to  mine.  Yes,  my  heart  is  this  moment  filled  with 
good  intentions  —  not  such  as  they  say  hell  is  paved  with, 
but  with  the  real  New  Jerusalem  sort,  and  verily  believe 
that  I  would  almost  do  anything  for  this  desired  result, 
except  turn  '  Methodist  circuit-rider.'  That  Avould  be  too 
much  for  my  frail  humanity,  unless  their  people  would^^az/ 
them  better.  How  does  Lucy  act  her  part  of  friend  ?  Tell 
her  that,  if  she  doesn't  give  you  all  the  benefit  of  her 
sense,  courage,  persuasiveness,  and  beauty,  I  will  haunt 
Campbell  and  her  after  I  am  dead,  and  bring  bad  luck  on 
them  forever  —  that  there  is  enough  of  the  true  wizard 
about  me  to  do  this,  if  not  enough  to  bring  good  fortune 
to  myself. 

"  But  you  are  too  good,  and  true,  and  sweet  a  girl  to  write 
such  nonsense  to,  so  I  shall  inflict  no  more  of  it  upon  you, 
but  promise  to  be  very  serious  the  next  letter  I  write  to 
you.    Write  to  me  by  some  chance  or  other.    In  the  mean- 


B  L  ()  O  M     AND    B  lU  E  R  .  213 

while  I  shall  watch  every  breeze  and  every  bird  that  floats 
this  way,  and  expect  the  one  to  breathe  to  my  listening 
ear  some  low,  soft  note  of  hope,  or  the  warbling  music  of 
the  other  —  some  song  of  joy  and  love  as  it  was  sung  from 
the  coral  lips  of  my  lady-love.  Will  this  do  for  my  first 
real  /ore-letter?  I  might  do  better,  if  I  could  further  pro- 
ceed ;  but  uncle  is  to  call,  and  I  write  in  a  hurry,  if  I 
have  written  long.  Let  me  hear  from  you,  in  some  way, 
very  soon. 

"  Very  affectionately,  Hexry  B." 

Lucy  appeared  quite  as  much  pleased  and  amused  at 
the  odd  mixture  of  fun  and  sentiment  in  the  letter,  and 
handed  it  back,  hiughingly,  to  Laura.  It  was,  indeed,  her 
first  "  real  love-letter  "  from  Henry,  and  she  looked  it  over 
and  thought  of  it  with  the  transport  of  delight.  At  length, 
overcome  by  her  feelings,  she  fell  upon  her  sister's  neck, 
and  sobbing,  said : 

"  Oh  !  Lucy,  Lucy  !  my  heart  will  break  at  this  !  Is  it 
not  better  that  I  should  tell  it  all,  at  once,  to  mother,  and 
be  over  with  this  terrible  anxiety  and  suspense  ? " 

"  Oh,  be  quiet,  Laura,"  answered  Lucy  ;  "  matters  may 
not  be  as  bad  as  you  think ;  and  in  a  few  days  you  will  be 
calmer,  too." 

At  this  moment  a  servant  announced  tea,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  more  the  two  sisters  walked  into  the  supper-room 
together.  Mr.  Brandon  saw  that  Laura  appeared  agitated, 
but  said  nothing,  as  he  knew  the  cause. 


214  BLOOM    AND    BRIER, 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

"'Tis  an  old  tale,  and  often  told." 

HEXRY  BRANDON  continued  in  his  whimsical  resolu- 
tion of  remaining  two  or  three  weeks  longer  in  the 
city,  where  between  reading  "  Blackstone,"  and  crotchety 
but  pleasant  disputation  with  Judge  Lorn  on  every  con- 
ceivable subject,  whenever  the  Judge  was  at  sufficient  leis- 
ure, the  time  was  passing  rapidly  away. 

The  Saturday  following  after  his  sending  the  book  to 
Laura,  Camj^bell  informed  him  that  he  intended  that  day 
visiting  the  country,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  accompany 
him.  Brandon  told  him  that  his  appointed  time  for  visit- 
ing the  prairies  had  not  yet  come  ;  but  would  thank  him  to 
take  a  note  for  him,  asking  him  if  he  would  deliver  it  ac- 
cording to  direction  —  in  person. 

"  Oh,  certainly  ;  I  comprehend,"  said  he,  laughing,  "  and 
shall  play  confidential  messenger  with  the  most  approved 
caution." 

Leaving  the  office,  he  promised  to  return  as  he  left  town. 
Brandon  merely  wrote  a  short  note  on  a  card,  and  enclos- 
ing it,  waited  for  the  return  of  Campbell. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  he  came  by,  and  Brandon,  hand- 
ing him  the  note,  asked  him  to  speak  to  his  mother  and 
Violet  at  church  the  next  day ;  and  if  the  girls  should  go 
there  to  dine,  to  go  with  them. 

"  Yes ;  thank  you.  I  shall  certainly  speak  to  Mrs. 
Brandon  and  your  sister,  and  probably  will  dine  there." 

As  Campbell  rode  ofl^,  Brandon  followed  him  with  his 
eyes  as  long  as  he  remained  in  view,  and  could  but  sigh  for 
the  difference  in  their  feelings  and  their  prospects. 

Campbell  had  already  seen  Mr.  Robert  Brandon,  and 


KLOOM    AND    BRIER.  215 

asked  permission  to  address  his  daughter,  to  which  the 
latter  had  given  his  consent,  with  only  the  proviso,  that  his 
personal  influence  must  not  be  expected ;  but  that  any 
course  his  daughter  might  see  proper  to  adopt,  would  meet 
his  approbation. 

This  was  all  that  Campbell  desired,  as  he  had  already 
had  some  conversation  with  Lucy  in  regard  to  the  subject, 
and  felt  assured  that  it  would  all  go  as  he  wished.  Having 
seen  more  of  the  girls  since  the  return  of  Henry  Brandon 
than  before,  and  caught  much  of  his  ease  of  manner,  he 
had  not  only  secured  the  affections  of  Lucv,  but  become 
quite  a  flivorite  with  Henry  Brandon  and  with  Laura 

Reaching  "Starlight"  before  sunset,  he  was  met  at  the 
gate  by  a  servant,  who  conducted  him  to  the  house  •  and 
was  there  met  by  Mr.  Brandon  himself,  wlio  welcomed  him 
cordially.  It  was  not  long  before  the  young  ladies  made 
their  appearance,  who  also  seemed  much  pleased  at  his  visit. 
Mr.  Brandon  did  not  remain  with  them  a  great  while, 
uhich  gave  Campbell  a  good  opportunitv  to  hand  Laura 
the  note  from  Henry,  as  if  but  just  to  have  remembered  it. 
Laura,  judging  from  its  size  and  appearance  that  it  con- 
tained nothing  of  moment,  with  apparent  carelessness 
opened  it  in  his  presence. 

"Not  a  very  long  communication,  Miss  Brandon,"  said 
Campbell,   as   he  saw  her  twirling   the  card  in   her  fin- 
gers.    "He  might  ev^  have  trusted  me  with  that  much 
verbally."  ' 

"Yes;  it  would  not  have  burdened  vour  memorv  verv 
greatly."  '  *^         '' 

"Perhaps  its  point  supplies  its  deficiency  in  quantity. 
1  ou  would  scarcely  risk  the  reading  of  it." 

"Oh,  yes;  there  is  but  little  to  risk;  he  says  I  must 
write  to  him  by  you,  and  that  we  must  all  dine  with  Violet 
to-morrow." 

"CHirt,  indeed;  I  think  you  had  better  return  it  to  the 


216  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

young  gentleman  by  me,  as  its. own  best  answer,"  at  the 
same  time  reaching  out  his  hand  as  if  to  receive  it. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  she,  blushing,  and  rising  at  the  same 
time.  "  I  will  just  leave  you  two  alone,  that  you  may  pave 
the  way  to  the  preparation  of  longer  ones,"  and  laughing, 
moved  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Why,  Laura,  you  certainly  do  not  intend  to  leave  Mr. 
Campbell  and  me  in  this  great  room  to  ourselves,  and  at 
this  strange  weird  time.  Twilight  and  midnight  are  the 
favorite  hours  of  the  mystic  world,  and  we  may  both  get 
terribly  frightened." 

"  I  would  be  pleased  to  have  you  remain.  Miss  Laura, 
but  you  need  not  fear  for  the  danger.  I  will  engage  to 
defend  us  both  against  all  comers  and  goers  from  the  un- 
seen world." 

"  Yes  ;  I  shall  risk  you  at  all  events." 

Lucy  was  quite  half  in  earnest  when  she  said  they  would 
get  frightened ;  at  least,  it  was  certainly  true  of  herself,  she 
having  reason  to  believe  that  Campbell  intended  formally 
addressing  her,  on  the  first  suitable  occasion,  which  Laura's 
absence  would  now  furnish  —  indeed,  it  appearing  to  be 
an  invitation  for  him  to  do  so.  Lucy  saw  and  felt  this, 
and  instantly  rose  as  if  to  object  to  her  sister  leaving ;  but 
Laura  saw  that  it  was  perhaps  the  desire  of  Campbell  that 
she  should,  and,  still  laughing,  left  the  room,  saying  that 
she  would  be  absent  but  a  short  while.  Lucy  now  re- 
sumed her  chair,  which  Campbell  also  did,  after  drawing 
his  own  nearer  to  hers.  For  a  few  seconds,  he  appeared 
about  as  awkward,  as  she  seemed  confused.  Both  felt  that 
the  time  had  very  unexpectedly  come,  when  their  relations 
were  to  be  permanently  changed,  and  both  trembled  with 
excitement. 

Lucy,  how^ever,  first  had  the  courage  to  break  silence, 
by  humorously  asking  him  if  he  had  begun  to  feel  a  little 
frightened. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  217 

"  Yes,  miss,  a  little  agitated." 

"  Why,  sir,  do  you  see  or  hear  anything  to  alarm  you?" 

*'  I  more  fear  that  I  shall,  than  that  I  now  do  hear  some- 
thing to  frighten  me  ;  and  I  certainly  do  see  something 
that  a  little  agitates  me,  even  while  it  charms  me,  and 
would  give  anything  in  my  power  for  only  one  half-hour 
of  Henry  Brandon's  ease  of  speech,  that  I  might  describe 
it." 

"  He  certainly  excels  in  that  ;  and  as  I  am  his  kins- 
woman, I  may  have  some  of  his  same  facility,  and  assist 
you,  if  it  is  of  difficult  utterance." 

This  last  remark  Lucy  had  unguardedly  made,  and 
quickly  seeing  the  use  to  be  made  of  it,  suddenly  rose,  as 
if  a  little  frightened,  and  said: 

"There!  Mr.  Campbell ;  did  you  not  hear  some  strange 
sound  ? "  but  had  not  executed  her  ruse,  before  Campbell 
rose,  and,  catching  her  hand,  asked  that  he  might  be  her 
defender.  Lucy  now  saw  that  she  was  detected  in  the 
device,  and  both  laughed,  as  Campbell  reseated  her,  he 
saying:  "But  now  I  claim  the  proffered  offer  of  assistance 
to  my  speech,  as  recompense  for  my  protection." 

"  Proceed,  Mr.  Campbell,"  said  she,  with  an  effort  at 
appearing  indifferent;  "I  may  assist  you  at  the  crisis  of 
your  need." 

Campbell  seeing  at  once  that  she  was  really  more  agi- 
tated than  himself,  did  not  feel  repulsed  by  the  reply,  and 
only  said  in  answer :  "  That  is  all  that  I  can  a^sk.  Miss 
Lucy." 

"  'Tis  this  rose  you  saw,  or  see,  Mr.  Campbell  —  mayhap 
a  mere  conceit,"  said  she,  going  back  on  the  conversation, 
and  scarce  knowing  what  she  did  say. 

"  It  may  have  been,  or  be,"  he  said,  as  he  playfully  took 
her  hand  ;  "  but  whatever  the  beautiful  thing  may  be,  will 
you  permit  me  to  claim  an  interest  in  its  loveliness?" 

Looking  sweetly  in  his  face,  she  smilingly  replied; 
19 


218  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"If  1  have  the  right  Avhich  you  imply,  it  would  be  un- 
generous to  refuse,  after  so  pretty  a  petition." 

She  had  not  more  than  spoken  the  words,  before  he  raised 
her  hand  to  his  lips. 

Tea  was  announced,  and  they  walked  out  pleasantly  and 
happily  together.  Laura  met  them  with  a  smile  as  they 
entered,  feeling  perhaps  quite  as  haj)py  as  themselves, 
having  been  writing  to  Henry  Brandon;  and  the  mere 
fact  of  having  been  giving  expression  to  her  feelings,  im- 
parted the  highest  glow  to  her  beautiful  face,  and  a  bril- 
liant animation  to  her  conversation. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

"With  a  smile  on  her  lip,  and  a  tear  in  her  eye." 

THE  next  morning,  the  family  of  Mr.  Brandon  left  for 
church,  at  the  usual  hour.  When  they  reached  there,  a 
large  part  of  the  congregation  had  already  arrived,  and  it 
was  not  long  before  all  had  met  and  services  were  begun. 
Mr.  Jerome  preached  one  of  his  very  best  sermons,  so  much 
so,  as  to  occasion  it  to  be  remarked.  It  was  manly,  replete 
with  Christian  truth,  and  free  from  that  complexion  and 
taint  which  has,  for  so  many  years,  degraded  the  pulpit  of 
this  country  into  little  else  than  a  mere  vulgar  hustings, 
from  the  teachings  of  which  congregations  have  gone  to 
their  homes  with  the  fury  of  devils  burning  in  their  hearts ; 
and  in  which  fact  is  to  be  traced  one  of  the  directest  causes 
of  the  late  unholy  W'ar.  When  women  go  beyond  the  domes- 
tic circle,  and  ministers  beyond  the  Bible,  to  exert  their  in- 
fluence, society  ever  suffers  ;  and  when  these  get  to  be  reli- 
gion, women  should  go  barren,  and  churches  to  ashes. 


BLOOM     AND    B  li  I  E  R  .  219 

After  the  seniles  were  over  —  as  was  usual  in  the  olden 
time,  when  the  white  population  was  comparatively  small, 
and  that,  too,  almost  individually  separated  by  large  plan- 
tations—  the  congregation  lingered  for  some  time  while 
exchanging  salutations  and  other  amenities  peculiar  to  the 
social  relations  of  planter  life. 

As  they  were  about  separating,  each  asked  the  other 
home  to  dine.  Violet  succeeded,  however,  in  spite  of  other 
refusals,  in  getting  her  peculiar  circle  of  young  friends  to 
accompany  her. 

The  days  were  now  getting  short,  and  not  much  formal- 
ity was  observed.  Dinner  was  found  to  be  ready,  on  reach- 
ing Mrs.  Brandon's,  and  not  very  long  in  being  ended.  It 
was  no  sooner  over,  than  all  the  company  met,  in  a  free 
and  easy  manner,  in  the  parlor,  and  for  the  next  hour  or 
so  enjoyed  themselves  with  great  zest.  As  the  conversation 
crossed  and  re-crossed  from  one  to  the  other,  Laura  Bran- 
don remarked  to  Mr.  Jerome,  that  it  was  profanely  rumored 
that  probable  contingencies  would  shortly  render  the  pres- 
ence of  hco  parsons  necessary  to  the  performance  of  parish 
duties,  and  asked  if  he  had  heard  anything  of  such  reports. 

"I  can't  say.  Miss  Laura,"  said  Mr.  Jerome,  "that  I 
have ;  but  from  what  I  saw  one  of  the  young  ladies  of  the 
congregation  do  to-day,  I  should  think  that  one  parson  is 
hardly  sufficient  to  hold  their  attention.  I  think  I  saw 
one  of  my  fairest  parishioners  draw  a  watch  upon  my  ser- 
mon, as  if  in  great  impatience  at  its  length." 

"Ah!  I  plead  guilty  to  that,  Parson;  but  it  was  far 
from  a  feeling  of  impatience  that  made  me  do  it.  I  heard 
you  to-day  with  unusual  interest.  It  was  an  idea  —  a 
recollection,  if  you  please  —  that  came  over  me,  and  I  did 
look  at  the  hour." 

"Was  it  the  right  one?" 

"Yes,  sir;  just  about,"  said  Laura,  blushing,  supposing 
from  the  question  that  Mr.  Jerome  had  somehow  guessed 


220  BLOOM    A>'D    BRIER. 

at  the  point ;  "  but  after  that,  I  did  you  all  possible  honor 
in  the  stricter  attention." 

Standing  near  Violet  at  the  time,  she  held  the  card  from 
Henry,  concealed  in  her  hand,  that  the  latter  might  read  it, 
in  which  he  had  asked  her  to  remember  him  at  12  o'clock, 
and  he  would  do  the  same  by  her.  Violet  comprehended 
the  whole  matter  at  a  glance,  but  said  nothing. 

The  company  were  now  in  the  act  of  leave-taking,  when 
Laura  playfully  insisted  on  Mr.  Jerome  telling  her  whether 
there  was  any  truth  in  the  report  of  the  two  parsons  being 
necessary  in  the  parish. 

"  I  am  afraid  not,  unless  you  in  some  wise  contemplate 
introducing  another,  of  which,  indeed,  there  is  some  little 
said  by  those  I  know  of." 

"  Come,  Parson ;  you  say  that  in  a  bad  spirit." 

*'  No,  not  by  any  means ;  for  there  have  been  some  very 
pretty  speculations  in  regard  to  yourself,  and  a  certain 
dashing  young  genius,  who  has  lately  reappeared  among 
us ;  and  who  I  regret  not  meeting  with  to-day,  as  I  had 
some  very  fine  messages  for  him  from  old  Mr.  Thaxton,  and 
I  must  not  omit  to  tell  you  too,  what  a  friend  he  is  of  yours. 
He  thinks  Henry  Brandon  the  finest  genius  who  has  ap- 
peared here  for  years,  and  Laura  Brandon  the  finest  girl 
in  the  whole  country." 

"Yes;  old  Mr.  Thaxton  is  a  great  friend  of  mine,  I 
know,  and  so  am  I  of  his  —  really  have  quite  an  admira- 
tion for  the  old  man.  But  never  mind  that  just  now.  I 
^vant  your  confidence  this  evening,  Parson.  Kow,  just  tell 
me  in  your  most  artless  manner,  whether  etymological  in- 
structions to  Miss  Sally,  in  regard  to  the  famous  word 
i^a7itL^co\  are  having  any  good  results." 

"Ah!  the  time  is  too  short  now  to  enter  upon  that  sub- 
ject. Let  me  reserve  the  answer  for  some  day  when  we 
have  more  leisure — when,  too,  you  may  be  better  prepared 
to  throw  some  fresh  light  upon  the  '  law  matrimonial,'  in 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  221 

which  I  suppose,  you  have  quite  an  able  instructor,  and 
of  which  I  am  anxious  to  learn  something." 

"  Why,  Parson,  you  are  positively  growing  malignant." 
While  Laura  was  talking  with  Mr.  Jerome,  she  was 
watching  a  favorable  opportunity  to  hand  to  Mr.  Campbell 
the  letter  which  she  had  written  to  Henry  Brandon,  and 
seeing  it  at  this  moment,  she  asked  Mr.  Jerome  to  excuse 
her.  Without  being  observed  she  handed  it  to  him,  and 
saying  only  a  word  stepped  back  to  the  side  of  Mr.  Jerome. 
They  soon  separated  after  this,  and  were  on  their  different 
ways  home. 

So  soon  as  Campbell  reached  the  city,  he  sent  Laura's 
letter  to  Brandon's  room.  The  latter  spent  the  remainder 
of  the  evening  in  reading  and  re-reading  it.  It  ran  as 
follows:  which,  though  reposed  to  our  care,  we  hope,  at  thi^ 
late  day,  is  no  violation  of  confidence  to  give  to  the  reader. 


"  Starlight,  Sth  December. 

"  A  contraband  letter  came  into  my  possession  some  days 
since,  from  my  dear  cousin  Henry  Brandon,  which,  it  is 
needless  to  assure  him,  is  held  as  the  dearest  treasure  I 
possess.  Its  various  evidences  of  true  affection,  its  humor, 
and  its  gay-heartedness,  found  either  their  response  or  ap- 
preciation, in  the  bosom  of  his  oivn  affectionate  Laura. 

"  When  I  first  read  it,  I  could  but  give  way  to  a  flood  of 
nervous  tears  ;  but  recovering  then,  I  have  felt  calmer  and 
happier  every  time  I  have  read  it  since,  which  if  I  con- 
tinue to  do,  as  often  for  the  next  few  days  as  I  have  for  the 
past  few,  the  power  of  numerals  will  be  quite  severely 
taxed  in  their  enumeration.  This  will  appear  extravagant, 
but  is  nigher  the  truth  than  might  be  supposed ;  but  let 
me  beg  you,  my  gay  chevalier,  not  to  let  it  make  you  vain 
—  only  let  it  encourage  you  to  write  me  more  such,  and 
oftener. 

"The  few  foregoing  lines  were  all  that  I  had  written  when 

I  was  called  to  tea;  since  then,  after  remaining  a  short 

while  in  the  parlor,  I  have  returned  to  my  task  of  lovey 

asking  Mr.  Campbell  and  Lucy  to  excuse  me,  which  they 

19* 


222  BLOOM    AXD    BEIER. 

appeared  to  do  very  iciUiugly.  But  now  that  I  have  sat 
down  to  this  pleasing  duty,  1  scarce  know  how  to  resume; 
and  certainly  cannot  see  how  I  shall  ever  stop  —  quite  a 
dilemma  to  fall  into,  as  the  more  I  think,  the  still  further 
am  I  led  to  think  —  rather  likening  my  situation  to  that 
of  the  famous  inexhaustion  of  the  Avidow's  cruse. 

"  Out  of  such  abundance,  you  will  very  naturally  think 
that  I  might  have  written  before  —  and  so,  indeed,  t  might 
have,  and  greatly  wished  to;  and  you  are  therefore  entitled 
to  an  explanation.  First,  then,  I  did  not  suppose  that  you 
would  so  persistently  carry  out  your  resolution  of  remain- 
ing so  long  away  from  us,  and  somehow  continued  to  look 
for  you  riding  up  every  evening. 

"  This  was  the  reasoning  of  my  affection.  The  next  and 
only  other,  was  the  reasoning  of  my  caution.  I  really  saw 
no  opportunity  likely  to  arise,  which  could  be  intrusted 
with  so  important  a  missive — there  was  no  'Earl  of  ^Yar- 
wick '  at  my  command,  and  J  have  almost  feared  to  in- 
trust it  to  a  less  responsible  envoy. 

"  Mr.  Campbell's  return  to-morrow,  particularly  as  it  is 
by  your  request,  is  the  very  first  chance  that  has  presented 
itself,  and  as  you  see,  I  am  embracing  it.  I  have,  too,  quite 
an  assurance  of  his  suitability,  from  the  particular  manner 
of  his  handing  your  last  note  to  me  —  doing  it  as  if  a 
matter  of  no  unusual  moment,  when  no  one  was  present 
except  Lucy  and  myself;  and  then,  as  though  he  had  just 
remembered  it.  I  have  for  a  good  while  been  much  dis- 
posed to  like  him ;  but  now,  am  even  ready  to  declare  my- 
self his  friend,  and  hope  you  will  find  it  agreeable  to  cul- 
tivate a  nearer  acquaintance  with  him,  particularly  as  he 
is  very  likely  to  become  a  member  of  our  family  at  no  dis- 
tant day ;  and  will  possess  a  certain  sort  of  influence  with 
mother,  which  ice  can  probably  make  available  to  us.  He 
is  aware  of  the  many  advantages  of  mind  which  you  have 
over  him,  and  you  can  therefore  afford  to  make  advances. 
He,  too,  is  a  stranger,  while  you  are  at  home  on  your 
'native  heath.' 

*' '  Such  a  diplomatist,'  say  you.  Yes  ;  but  my  intentions 
are  not  to  take  advantage  of  any  one,  but  to  do  all  the 
good  I  can. 

"This  much  in  regard  to  oin-selves.  With  regard  to 
2/owrself,  it  is  proper  for  you  to  receive  the  friendship  of 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  223 

such  men,  if  you  desire  Buccess  and  promotion,  either  as  a 
professional  or  public  character.  By  the  necessary  ope- 
rations of  society,  all  the  honors  of  life  are  confined  within 
certain  particular  limits ;  and  an  effort  to  obtain  them  out- 
side of  these  circles  or  coteries  is  of  doubtful  experiment, 
or  at  least  places  an  aspirant  in  the  aggressive,  which,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  must  be  very  unpleasant  to  one  who 
possesses  social  and  generous  impulses.  What  a  politician 
I  would  have  made  !      Xous  verrons. 

"You  said,  in  your  letter  by  father  —  the  'Last  of  the 
Barons'  —  that  it  was  your  first  love-letter.  I  think  you 
are  mistaken.  You  have  merely  got  your  position  reversed. 
It  was  your  last;  as  I  always  felt  that  every  one  you  ever 
wrote  me  was  a  genuine  love-letter,  and  met  response,  too, 
in  my  own  heart ;  elsewise,  why  should  it  now  belong  so 
entirely  to  my  wild  young  cousin?     I  must  be  right. 

"  The  only  difiference  I  can  see  between  this  and  all  pre- 
vious others  is,  that  in  this  you  are  my  openly  avowed 
'sweetheart,'  as  you  call  it,  while  always  before,  the  same 
fact  was  disclosed,  but  under  diflferent  disguises ;  but  they 
were  all  the  same  to  a  woman's  penetration,  and  to  a 
woman's  heart. 

"  You  see  that  I  am  quite  resolved  to  believe  that  you 
were  always,  as  you  are  this  day,  my  own  Henry  Brandon ; 
and  yet  I  will  confess  to  you  that  an  avowed  profession  of 
your  feelings — one  that  I  could  see,  ay,  and  feel  too  — 
brought  a  new  and  an  unknown  joy  to  my  heart.  Oh, 
cousin !  I  can  never  tell  the  dreamy  happiness,  the  sweet 
ecstasy,  the  brilliant  hope,  that  came  as  angels  come,  and 
colored  the  future  of  my  life  with  the  softness  of  the  sky's 
own  blue,  when.  I  held  your  letter  before  me,  telling  me 
that  you  loved  me !  The  innocent  fancy  of  childhood,  and 
the  beautiful  vision  that  had  ever  floated  along  the  path 
of  my  girlhood's  wild  and  shy  romance,  came  gushing  over 
me  in  a  flood  of  light,  and  love,  and  truth.  But  I  fear 
you  grow  weary  of  this  lightly  told  history  of  a  heart  you 
have  appeared  to  win  so  easily ;  yet  I  hope  not ;  nor  yet 
must  you  think  it  an  unmaiden  thing  to  tell  so  plainly  the 
life  secret  of  my  woman's  soul.  But  I  know  I  wrong  you 
wiien  I  use  such  words,  even  with  Love's  sweet  privilege, 
as  the  very  spirit  that  hovers  over  my  being,  ever  tells 
me  that  you  are  my  own,  even  as  /  ivas  ever  yours.    Though 


224  BLOOM     AND     BRIER. 

T  scarce  did  know  hew  our  hopes,  our  fortunes,  and  all 
the  shadows  of  our  lives  were  to  commingle  into  one,  yet 
every  year  brought  its  own  bright  imaginings,  with  not  one 
doubt  to  darken  their  glowing  freshness.  But  still,  with 
all  this  unrippled  smoothness  in  my  feelings'  flow,  and  all 
my  present  blissful  gladness,  there  is  some  vague  and  ach- 
ing fear  of  the  future,  some  uncertain  woe,  which  I  scarce 
can  trace  back  to  its  bitter  source.  Yet,  never  mind  ;  it 
may  be  but  a  baseless  ajDprehension,  and  I  will  hope  it  is. 

"  Lucy  has  already  returned  from  the  parlor,  asleep,  and 
dreaming  of  the  bright  future,  it  may  be,  while  I  am  still 
writing  of  .the  bright  past.  From  the  first-mentioned  fact 
you  may  know  it  is  growing  quite  late,  and  I  am  warned 
to  stop,  elsewise  Mr.  Campbell  might  find  some  inconve- 
nience in  carrying  such  a  package.  And  now  may  the 
angels  guard  you !     My  spirit  is  ever  with  you. 

"  Yours,  afl^ectionately,  Laura  Brandon. 

"  P.  S.  — I  have  kept  this  letter  open  until  since  dinner 
was  over,  just  to  tell  you  that  precisely  at  12  o'clock,  to- 
day, in  accordance  with  your  boyish  request,  I  thought 
of  you,  when  your  image  was  on  my  heart  as  palpably  as 
ever  your  form  was  present  to  my  eye.      Yours,     L.  B." 

As  we  have  already  said,  Henry  read  and  re-read  this 
letter,  re-opened,  re-read,  and  speculated  as  to  the  future, 
until  a  late  hour,  and,  falling  into  a  gentle  sleep  as  he  sat 
in  his  arm-chair  with  his  gown  around  him,  dreamed  of  his 
lovely  cousin. 


CHAPTER   XXXiy. 

"  It  were  all  one, 
That  I  should  love  a  bright,  particular  star, 
And  think  to  wed  it,  he  is  so  above  me." 

THE  time  had  at  length  arrived  which  young  Brandon 
had  capriciously  set  apart  for  his  visit  to  the  country. 
Having,  too,  completed  the  first  readmg  of  his  Blackstone, 
he  felt  at  full  liberty  to  take  all  the  recreation  he  desired. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  225 

Judge  Lorn  evidently  disliked  to  give  him  up,  even  for 
so  short  a  time,  and  said  to  him  that  he  had  better  remain 
but  a  few  days,  as  the  law  differed  from  most  other  studies, 
and  a  student  would  soon  lose  the  whole  system  of  reason- 
ing and  induction,  by  disuse. 

Henry  admitted  that  it  was  doubtless  so,  but  told  him 
that  there  were  two  events  which  would  necessarily  inter- 
vene before  his  return  — the  Christmas  holidays,  and  his 
sister's  wedding  — the  latter  being  appointed  to  take  place 
early  in  January.  He  very  fortunately  had  these  excuses  ; 
but  even  had  they  not  existed,  all  the  Blackstones  ever 
published,  would  not  have  restrained  him  from  the  enjoy- 
ment which  he  promised  himself  within  the  next  few 
weeks.  "Sam  Brandon"— who  had  been  with  him— was 
accordingly  ordered  to  take  to  the  country  such  matters 
of  apparel  as  would  be  necessary  for  a  month's  sojourn, 
and,  the  next  day  after  that,  Henry  himself  followed. 

Life  soon  assumed  all  the  old  heyday  of  pleasure,  even 
as  if  there  had  never  been  a  book  published  ;  and  much 
of  his  time  was  passed  with  his  cousins,  who  never  failed 
to  meet  him  with  pleasure,  while  Mrs.  Brandon  was  forced 
into  the  same  appearance  of  welcome.  He  was  made  to 
feel,  however,  that  there  was  really  but  little  pleasure  felt 
by  her  in  his  visits.  This,  however,  he  cared  little  for,  as 
he  had  learned  not  to  expect  it,  and  knew  that  she  had  no 
direct  cause  to  receive  him  in  any  other  wise  than  respect- 
fully. 

His  mother  and  Violet  had  begun  to  be  troubled  about 
his  attentions  to  Laura,  feeling  satisfied  that  it  would  pro- 
duce a  rupture  between  the  families,  as  soon  as  he  should 
attempt  a  change  in  the  relations  between  himself  and 
Laura,  with  the  certainty,  too,  of  failure  on  his  part. 

Mrs.  Brandon  finally  resolved  to  have  some  serious  con- 
versation with  him  in  regard  to  it,  if  it  was  possible  to  do 
so;  and  on  the  first  opportunity  which  presented  itself 


226  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

she  began  bv  suggesting  once  more,  that,  in  consequence 
of  the  approaching  marriage  of  Violet,  some  changes  would 
be  necessary  to  be  made  in  their  private  affairs,  and  asked 
him  if  he  had  thought  of  the  matter. 

"No,  not  a  great  deal,  mother.  I  have  just  thought 
that  they  would  go  along  as  most  affairs  of  the  sort  do  go." 

His  tone  of  voice  was  a  little  irritable,  which  induced 
her  to  say,  in  reply : 

"  I  know  the  matter  is  not  a  very  delightful  one  to  you, 
my  son ;  yet  we  cannot  always  have  our  own  choosing  in 
the  course  of  events.  Some  things  force  themselves  upon 
our  attention  ;  and  while  not  pleasing,  perhaps,  are  exactly 
such  as  the  pleasantnesses  of  life  hinge  upon,  and  there- 
fore we  must  attend  to  the  one,  in  order  to  secure  the  other. 
Every  sweet  has  its  bitter;  but  every  bitter  has  its  own 
recommendations." 

"  Well,  mother,  that  is  a  comforting  sort  of  philosophy. 
I  am  therefore  at  your  service,  for  the  discussion  of  any 
little  subject  that  you  may  propose.  What  view  do  you 
wish  that  I  should  take  of  this  very  serious  subject?  " 

He  had  not  more  than  spoken  these  words,  when  Violet 
entered  the  room,  to  whom  he  turned  and  said : 

"  Sister,  these  nuptial  enterprises  seem  to  be  quite  serious 
concerns,  in  these  latter  days.  It  is  but  a  short  time  since 
when  something  connected  with  a  certain  one,  forced  the 
fact  upon  my  attention  that  I  was  approaching  that  rubi- 
con  of  manhood,  which  twains  midway  the  masculine  part 
of  life,  ycleped  vingt-et-un,  when,  forsooth,  it  rises  before  me 
again,  in  a  more  formidable  shape.  Now,  can't  you  and 
Hunter,  wdth  mother  for  judge-advocate,  arrange  the  whole 
affair,  and  release  me  of  all  connection  with  it  ? " 

"  I  can't  say,  brother.  Perhaps  I  might  assist,  if  I  were 
aware  of  its  nature." 

"  Oh,  I  thought,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  the  sugges- 
tion was  made  at  your  instance,  and  assure  you  that  I 


BLOOM    AND    BRIE«.  227 

am  wholly  unprepared  to  enlighten  you  in  the  premises. 
"What  is  the  character  of  the  disquisition,  mother,  which 
I  am  invited  to  participate  in  ?  " 

"It  was  with  regard  to  what  arrangement  you  wished  in 
reference  to  the  division  of  the  estate." 

'*  Ah,  ha !  Well,  as  I  have  always  done  very  well  with- 
out a  division,  suppose  we  still  remain  united." 

"  That  would  be  very  agreeable ;  but  it  must,  at  least, 
have  a  nominal  head,  which  your  uncle  has  been  for  many 
years ;  but  he  cannot  do  so  much  longer." 

"  Well,  if  I  must  speak,  let  me  get  up  some  evidence. 
Violet,  to  whom  do  you  intend  clinging  for  the  future  — 
to  mother,  or  to  Thomas  Hunter  ?  " 

"  I  must  try  to  cling  to  both,  brother,"  said  she,  blush- 
ing, as  she  turned  her  mischievous  face  toward  him.  "  I 
cannot  leave  mother,  and  ought  not  to  leave  Mr.  Hunter. 
What  do  you  advise  ?  " 

"  Just  exactly  as  you  say  —  cling  to  both.  That  relieves 
me." 

"  But  do  you  not  intend  remaining  with  us  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  for  a  few  days,  probably.  But  then  I  might 
partially  lose  my  senses,  and  conclude  to  unite  my  fortunes 
with  those  of  some  sweet,  unsuspecting  girl ;  and  then,  you 
know,  we  should  be  compelled  to  separate." 

"  Not  necessarily.  We  could  continue  to  live  together 
then  as  well  as  now — particularly  if  it  was  Miss  Gray." 

"  Yes — Miss  Gray ;  but  suppose  it  should  be  our  pretty 
cousin  Laura?" 

Mrs.  Brandon  now  again  joined  the  conversation,  and 
said  to  him :  "  My  son,  let  me  beg  you  not  to  think  of 
Laura  in  that  way.  She  is  one  of  the  sweetest  girls  I 
ever  knew,  and  with  her  cultivated  mind,  her  generous 
character,  her  industry,  and  her  beauty,  would  make  a  be- 
coming wife  for  the  best  gentleman  in  the  land ;  but  I  tell 
you  in  all  sincerity  she  will  never  marry  you  against  her 


228  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

mother's  consent,  and  that  you  will  never  get ;  and  you  will 
only  bring  unhappiness  to  her  now  peaceful  and  pleasant 
life,  by  putting  that  question  to  the  test.  She  admires  you 
I  know ;  I  had  almost  said  loves  you,  and  has  done  so  from 
a  girl ;  but  as  yet,  it  has  only  been  as  toward  a  gay,  dashing 
cousin,  and  let  it  remain  at  that." 

"  Mother,  you  are  making  a  very  solemn  affair  out  of  it: 
you  really  frighten  me.  Can't  a  young  gentleman  love  a 
pretty  cousin  just  a  '  wee  bit,'  without  making  all  the  world 
miserable  ? " 

"You  should  not  attempt  to  turn  it  off*  so  lightly,  as  per- 
haps I  know  more  than  you  think  for." 

"Ah!  what  is  that?" 

"  If  you  will  answer  me  a  direct  question,  I  will  tell 
you." 

"  I  may  if  I  can." 

"Then,  have  you  not  written  Laura  on  that  subject  with- 
in the  last  month?" 

"  Oh,  mother ;  that  is  what  ive  lawyers  call  a  leading  ques- 
tion, therefore  must  not  permit  you  to  ask  it.  But  why  do 
you  put  it?" 

"She  showed  Violet  a  note,  which  you  would  not  have 
written  had  it  not  been  preceded  by  another  of  a  different 
character ;  and  then  I  saw  her  hand  Mr.  Campbell  a  letter, 
which  I  supposed  was  for  you.     Is  this  so  ? " 

"It  is." 

"  Have  you  the  letter  with  you  ? " 

"  I  have." 

"  Will  you  show  it  to  me?  " 

"  That  would  never  do,  mother.'* 

"  Of  course,  I  do  not  wish  to  read  a  letter  to  you  which 
was  intended  to  be  private,  but  I  know  that  you  would  not 
hesitate,  were  it  a  mere  letter  of  friendship." 

"  Brother,"  said  Violet,  laughing,  and  evidently  for  the 
purpose  of  changing  the  conversation;  "let  me  ask  you  to 


BLOOM    AND    B  11 1  E  R  .  229 

vi:jit  ^li^s  Gray ;  ^lie  is  a  beautiful  girl,  and  I  think  you 
would  be  pleased  with  her." 

"Yes;  and  I  rather  thought,  too,  the  young  lady  was 
pleased  with  me  —  and  she  rather  appears  to  be  such  an 
one  as  a  gentleman  might  afford  to  flirt  with,  for  a  season 
at  least.  But  then,  my  dear  sister,  you  appear  to  proceed 
on  the  amorial  hypothesis  that  your  brother  is  frantic  on 
the  subject  of  matrimony,  whereas  I  am  extremely  indif- 
ferent ;  and  moreover,  do  not  admire  this  idea  of  roving 
over  the  country  in  quest  of  a  sweetheart,  as  if  looking  for 
a  horse.  I  wish  the  young  lady  who  may  have  the  good 
fortune  to  receive  my  attentions,  to  happen  as  it  were,  in 
my  way." 

"  Well,  your  first  meeting  was  certainly  fortuitous — just 
of  the  very  description  you  speak  of" 

"  Yes,  so  it  was ;  and  I  have  heard  that  you  wished  her 
for  one  of  your  bridemaids." 

"I  had  thought  of  asking  her;  but  she  has  gone  to 
Memphis  on  a  visit  to  some  relations,  and  will  not  be  back 
before  spring." 

"  Ha !  ha !  so  there  was  a  most  beautiful  failure  in  your 
scheme." 

"  No,  no  scheme  at  all." 

"  Just  my  luck  then  —  see  how  the  fates  are  spinning  out 
my  thread.  I  am  forced  to  fall  in  love  with  Laura,  from  the 
pure  necessities  of  the  case ;  but  who  have  you  to  fill  her 
place  on  that  blissful  occasion?" 

Violet  then  told  him  all  her  arrangements,  and  answered 
his  question  directly,  by  telling  him  that  a  Miss  Jenny 
Morris,  an  orphan  niece  of  Judge  Hunter,  on  a  visit  to  him 
from  South  Carolina,  would  be  one  of  her  attendants,  "and 
really  one  of  the  prettiest  girls  I  ever  saw." 

"  Indeed  ;  and  what  is  the  style  of  her  surpassing 
beauty?" 

"  Medium  height,  faultless  figure,  graceful,  elegant  in  her 
20 


230  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

carriage,  brilliant  but  soft  black  eyes,  hair  black — black 
as  a  raven — fresh  complexion,  with  just  enough  of  the  olive 
tinge  to  give  it  perfect  beauty ;  pearly  teeth,  without  which 
no  woman  can  be  pretty." 

"I  agree  with  you,  nor  even  decent  —  go  on." 

"The  prettiest  mouth,  and  the  reddest,  sweetest  lips  —  " 

"All  very  good — go  on." 

"Highly  educated,  a  beautiful  performer  on  the  harp 
and  guitar,  and  one  of  the  finest  singers  you  ever  listened 
to." 

"  Very  fine !  — proceed." 

"Well,  altogether,  she  is  just  the  girl  to  secure  a  full 
share  of  your  august  admiration ;  and  according  to  your 
own  ideas,  has  fallen  accidentally  in  your  way — no  hunting 
up  done  on  either  side,  every  thing  perfectly  natural,  and 
you  are  to  wait  with  her." 

"Very  fine  —  perfectly  enchanting ;  but  why  did  you  not 
say  at  once,  sister,  sent  expressly  by  the  gods  to  meet  me 
on  this  hymeneal  occasion.  The  contre-temps  would  then 
have  been  sublime — leaving  nothing  for  me  to  do,  but  to 
go  through  the  short  and  vulgar  preliminary  of  obtaining 
a — license,  in  consideration  of  the  payment  of  three  dollars. 
But  why,  all  this  while,  have  you  not  had  Laura  as  one  of 
your  lady-waiters  ?  This  looks  like  a  conspiracy  against 
me,  sister." 

"Oh!  no,  brother;  you  know  my  feelings  too  well  to 
think  that.     No,  she  positively  declined." 

"  For  what  reason,  Violet  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  say,  as  she  positively  refuses  to  give  any.  I 
accused  her,  in  pleasantry,  of  some  sort  of  superstition  ; 
because  I  was  younger  than  she." 

"I  merely  said  what  I  did  in  jest  —  of  course  did  not 
think  it.  But  it  is  strange  why  she  refused.  But  '  all 's 
well  that  ends  well.'  So  I  shall  wait  with  Miss — what 
did  you  say  ?  " 


B  LOOM    AND    BRIER.  231 

"Jenny  Morris." 

"  A  very  pretty  name.  Pity  that  she  should  change  it, 
even  for  the  noble  one  of  Brandon.  She  has  high  author- 
ity, though,  for  believing  that  a  rose  will  smell  as  sweet 
by  any  other  name ;  and  therefore  I,  the  imperial  Henry 
Brandon,  may  stoop  to  pluck  this  gentle  flower,  and  wear 
it  on  my  royal  bosom  without  injury  to  its  fragrance," 
speaking  in  a  tone  of  mixed  levity  and  irony,  which  he 
intended  to  be  noticed  by  his  mother  and  sister ;  and  Vio- 
let observing  it  in  an  instant,  said  : 

"  I  was  only  jesting  when  I  suggested  Jenny  Morris  to 
your  attention  ;  and  yet,  from  what  I  have  seen  of  her,  and 
heard  of  her,  I  believe  she  would  be  an  eligible  match  for 
any  gentleman  who  did  not  desire  fortune." 

"You  are  quite  enthusiastic,  Violet,  in  the  praises  of 
your  new  friends.  First  Miss  Gray,  and  next  Miss  Morris. 
But  you  spoil  your  picture  of  the  latter,  in  the  last  touch 
of  your  brush.  Ko  fortune,  at  this  advanced  age  of  the 
world!  That  condition  is  particularly  unfortunate.  But 
do  you  think  there  would  be  any  objections  in  that  quarter?" 

"  None,  of  course  ;  for  what  objection  could  there  be  to 
yon,  in  any  quarter,  but  in  that  one  of  which  we  have 
spoken  ;  and  you  know  the  source  of  that.  Now,  sir,  does 
my  complimentary  explanation  appease  your  ire  ?  " 

"  Most  effectually ;  and  I  now  feel  all  the  inspiration  of 
the  Jenny  —  who  ?  —  proposition.  Yes,  Jenny  Morris  shall 
be  my  motto  for  —  I  can't  say  hoAV  long.  Beautiful,  accom- 
plished, fine  family  ;  but  —  no  fortune  !  Alas !  Oh,  cruel 
fate !  say  I,  as  I  am  a  fortune-hunter.  But  then  she  has 
the  especial  recommendation  of  having  no  towering  papa, 
or  lynx-eyed  mamma,  to  supervise  her  inclinations.  Very 
agreeable  facts  generally,  but  have  a  particular  beauty  to 
me  about  this  time." 

"Yes,  and  —  " 

"  Enough,  Violet.     You  will  overwhelm  me,  if  you  add 


232  BLOOM    A  XD    BRIER. 

another  recommendation.  You  would  force  me  to  go 
directly  in  search  of  this  Hebe.  But  what  shall  I  say  to 
sweet  Laura  Brandon  when  she  sees  that  I  have  made  my- 
self a  Romeo  to  another  Juliet  ?  " 

"  You  need  say  nothing  to  Laura,  for  she  will  see  your 
right  to  do  so,  knowing  that  she  will  never  marry  you,  nor 
any  one,  against  her  mother's  wishes  ;  and  in  your  case 
already  knows  that  she  will  never  get  it.  But  remember, 
brother,  that  both  you  and  Laura  have  no  better  friend 
than  I,  in  any  cause." 

Henry  Brandon  saw  the  purpose  of  Violet,  and  while 
he  could  not  but  feel  bitterly  in  regard  to  it,  he  affected  to 
treat  the  whole  matter  lightly.  Let  us  wait  and  see  the 
end. 

"  Ah  !  that  is  the  true  ring,  sister;  and,  win  or  lose,  you 
place  me  under  the  same  obligation,  and  in  return  for  it  I 
now  offer  you  my  services  in  any  capacity  relative  to  your 
entertainment,  from  runninor  on  small  errands,  to  the  icing: 
of  cake; "  and  he  left  the  room  with  a  bitter  laugh. 


CHAPTER    XXXY. 

"I  hold  the  world  but  as  the  world,  Gratiano; 
A  stage,  where  ev'ry  man  must  play  a  part. 
And  mine  a  sad  one." 

TOLlN"G  Brandon,  feeling  out  of  humor,  without  scarcely 
knowing  why,  remained  at  home  for  several  days, 
only  varying  the  monotony  by  an  occasional  partridge 
hunt,  wdth  ''Sam  Brandon"  for  his  companion.  Wearying 
with  this  sort  of  mixed  sullenness  and  trouble,  he  resolved 
on  a  visit  to  Hunter,  who  had,  indeed,  been  over  to  Mrs. 
Brandon's  the  evening  before,  but  he  had  failed  to  meet 
him,  from  being  absent  on  one  of  his  hunting  excursions. 


R  L  O  ()  M     A  N  D     B  K  I  E  R  .  233 

Orderiiip:  Sam  to  have  theliorscs,  he  hud  no  sooner  fiiii.slicd 
his  breakfast,  than  ho  rode  off,  telling  his  mother  and  sister 
not  to  be  uneasy,  as  lie  ^vas  not  going  to  see  Laura,  but 
intended  spending  the  day  with  Hunter. 

"  ]\[y  son,"  said  jNIrs.  Brandon,  "  I  fear  that  you  have 
felt  hurt  with  me,  for  a  day  or  two  past;  but  —  " 

Henry  Brandon  rather  laughed,  and  told  her  not  to 
finish  the  sentence,  an^  left  the  house  without  waiting  for 
her  to  conclude  her  remarks. 

The  day  was  cold  and  clear,  but  beautiful  for  the  middle 
of  December.  The  wind  was  still,  and  the  warm,  yellow 
sunshine  rested  softly  on  the  bosom  of  the  brown  sward, 
as  if  soothing  it  for  the  crisp  frost  of  the  morning,  and  was 
now  resolved  on  melting  away  its  memory.  As  he  rode 
quietly  along,  the  peculiar  winter  softness  of  the  scene  gave 
cast  to  his  own  reflections,  and  he  wondered  why  the  unseen 
hand  that  guides  and  rules  the  seasons  could  so  forget  the 
destinies  of  human  life,  and  all  the  hopes,  the  loves,  the 
anxieties,  and  the  sorrows  of  the  heart,  as  to  permit  events 
to  transpire  so  irregularly,  and  so  rudely  to  sweep  its  tender 
chords.  The  laws,  thought  he,  wdiich  govern  the  changes 
of  nature,  work  w^ith  a  certain  positive  regularity — one 
season  legitimately  succeeds  another,  and  we  know  what 
and  when  to  expect  it.  Spring,  with  its  glowing  beauty, 
and  buoyant  youth,  comes,  with  its  mysterious  germina- 
tions, and  lays  the  foundations  of  the  year ;  then  comes 
the  glorious,  splendid  Summer,  commanding  all  the  sin- 
gular and  unknown  energies  of  the  earth,  and  with  certainty 
drives  Nature  on  to  full  fruition.  Next,  is  the  lovely,  quiet 
Autumn,  to  rest  this  Nature,  as  it  were,  from  its  heaving 
toils ;  and  while  the  sighing  west  wind  mourns,  in  vesper 
cadences,  the  Summer's  fadings  hand  over  to  the  hearty, 
hale  old  Frost  King  the  full  account  of  its  stewardship. 
"  And  now,"  said  he,  "  here  he  is  in  all  the  majesty  of  his 
reign,  honored  by  the  groaning  abundance  of  the  year ;  and 


ZJ4  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

this  bright,  balmy  day  is  some  grand  gala-time  in  his  boreal 
court.  Yes,"  continued  he,  in  his  low  soliloquy,  "  all  is  reg- 
ular, smooth,  and  right  in  this  kingdom  of  the  earth  and  sky  ; 
but  not  thus  in  human  life.  There  all,  everything  is  uncer- 
tain, dark,  and  unreliable ;  nothing  is  to  be  depended  on  — 
no,  devil  the  bit  —  rather,  everything  appears  to  work  by  con- 
traries. Now,  why  can't  I  claim  the  hand  of  Laura  Bran- 
don? Her  heart  is  mine  —  and,  by  my  faith,  'tis  a  puny 
sort  of  acknowledgment;  but  mine  is  hers  —  and  yet  all 
the  consolation  I  get  for  this,  is  in  that  babbling  nonsense 
of  old  Shakspeare,  that  the  course  of  '  true  love  never 
did  run  smooth.'  Now,  does  his  having  said  it,  and  every 
other  fool  repeating  it,  make  it  any  the  better  for  me?  No; 
it 's  just  what  I  dislike,  the  more  I  think  of  it.  I  wish  the 
old  ass  had  had  no  dream  on  that  midsummer  night,  but 
had  slept  with  the  soundness  of  the  seven  sleepers  —  or  at 
least  dreamed  something  else.  But,  never  mind;  it  will 
be  right  against  the  twentieth  century. 

"  Come,  let 's  ride  up,"  said  he,  addressing  Sam  for  the 
first  time ;  and  both  started  their  horses  at  a  -rapid  gait, 
but  had  not  gone  far  before  they  met  Dr.  Wilton. 

Henry  and  the  Doctor  seemed  mutually  pleased  with 
the  accidental  meeting,  and  in  a  running  manner  talked 
over  the  neighborhood  gossip. 

Brandon  supposing,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  he  was 
out  on  professional  calls,  presently  asked  who  was  sick. 

"No  one,  particularly,"  he  rather  stammeringly  replied; 
"I  am  from  Judge  Hunter's  this  morning." 

"  Anything  the  matter  there  ?  "  he  innocently  asked. 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  answered,  laughingly  ;  "  I  merely  passed 
the  evening  with  him ;  or  with  the  young  ladies,  you  will 
say." 

"  Ah,  I  beg  pardon.  But  that  was  quite  as  pleasant  as 
practising,  and  mayhap  more  profitable,  too." 

"  More  pleasant,  I  grant  you.  As  to  the  profit,  depo- 
nent saith  not." 


BLOOM     AND    BRIER.  235 

"  I  learn,  Doctor,  that  the  stars  are  all  right  in  that 
quarter  of  the  hymeneal  heavens,  and  I  congratulate  you 
on  being  under  their  influence." 

"I  am  obliged  to  you,  indeed.  And  now  permit  me  to 
congratulate  you,  as  there  are  some  pleasant  rumors  afloat 
in  which  you  have  an  interest." 

"  Well,  I  shall  not  be  so  bashful  as  to  disclaim  having 
an  idea  of  what  the  rumors  are ;  but  as  I  hear  them,  they  are 
not  very  flattering  to  my  vanity  or  prospects." 

"Then  you  must  let  me  sympathize  with  you,"  said  he 
jocosely.  "  But  yours  is  not  the  current  statement.  By 
the  way,  you  have  a  very  warm  friend,  and  a  great  ad- 
mirer over  at  our  house,  Mr.  Brandon ;  and  if  all  the 
world  were  as  he  is,  you  would  certainly  have  fair  skies 
and  smooth  sailing ;  but  he  is  much  disposed  to  grumble 
at  your  never  coming  over  to  see  him." 

"  Yes,  you  allude  to  Mr.  Thaxtou  ;  and  I  am  really 
ashamed  of  never  having  gone  to  see  him." 

"  I  also  met  another  very  warm  admirer  of  yours  yester- 
day, and  he  asked  me  to  deliver  you  a  message  if  I  saw  you 
which  I  had  scarcely  thought  of  since.  Do  you  remember 
Jack  Gaulding?" 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  replied  Henry  Brandon,  laughing  ;  "one 
of  my  old  boyhood  friends,  down  in  the  hills." 

"Yes  —  well,  I  met  him  yesterday  in  company  with 
several  others,  armed  to  the  teeth,  all  of  whom  appeared  to 
know  you,  and  knew  that  you  had  returned ;  but  had  not 
met  with  you,  and  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see  you  once 
more  before  they  were  all  hilled,  or  were  comj^elled  to  leave 
the  country." 

"  Yes  ;  but  why  do  they  say  *  killed,'  or  compelled  to  leave 
the  country  ?  " 

"  I  believe  they  have  all  been  associated  with  Miller  in 
his  outlawry,  and  I  suppose  they  think  one  or  the  other 
result  will  follow." 


236  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"Ah  !  yes  —  -well,  did  they  designate  any  particular  day 
or  occasion?" 

"  Yes.  next  Saturday  week,  at  Manese's  grocery ;  -when 
there  will  be  a  '  ya?ic/er-pulling '  during  the  day,  and  a  hall 
at  night." 

The  Doctor  pretended  to  hesitate  as  he  delivered  the 
message ;  but  there  was  an  evident  twinkle  in  his  eye  as  he 
did  so,  which  Brandon  discovering,  replied : 

"Good,  my  lord;  I  shall  take  one  chance,  cost  what  it 
will.  I  may  not  win  a  great  deal,  but  I  shall  certainly  not 
lose  much.  It  is  about  the  last  flicker  of  the  old  hill- 
country  life,  I  should  judge,  and  I  must  see  it.  Would 
you  like  to  go.  Doctor  ?  It  will  be  worth  more  than  ten  non- 
sensical, formal,  court  receptions — it  will  be  human  nature 
nude.  Will  you  go  ?  It  may  lose  you  some  few  old  patrons 
up  here,  but  it  will  gain  you  twenty  there." 

"Oh,  damn  the  expense  on  a  spree,  as  the  two  Yankees 
said  when  they  divided  the  glass  of  hard  cider.  Yes,  I  will 
go  ;  but  we  need  make  no  blowing  horn  of  it." 

"  Certainly  not.  Then,  let  us  meet  at  St.  Mary's  Church 
next  Saturday  morning  week,  at  eight  o'clock.  The  Parson 
will  think  you  out  practising,  and  mother  and  Violet  will 
scarcely  question  me."  After  some  other  general  conver- 
sation, the  two  wild  Southerners  parted  to  meet  again  at  the 
appointed  time. 

After  going  some  hundred  yards,  Brandon  turned  in  his 
saddle,  and  called  out : 

"Doctor,  how  do  you  think  Miss  H.  will  like  it?" 

"  I  can't  really  say  ;  but  the  tender  passion  must  lower 
its  crest,  when  a  frolic  is  on  the  wing — but  how  do  you 
think  Miss  B.  will  take  it?" 

"  Ah  !  that  matter  is  about  lost  anyway.  '  Gone  glim- 
mering through  the  dream  of  things  that  were,'"  and  with 
the  last  words  dashed  on. 

It  was  now  but  a  few  minutes'  ride  to  Hunter's  residence, 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  237 

and  reachinc^  there,  without  ceremony  he  entered  the  house; 
and  found  his  ohl  friend  and  chissmate  comfortably  seated 
before  a  good  fire  in  his  library,  diving  deep  into  the  mys- 
teries of  the  celebrated  Resolutions  of  '98-99. 

"Ah  —  the  top  of  the  morning  to  you — extremely  com- 
fortable," said  Brandon  as  he  entered  very  unexpectedly. 

"Why,  good  morning,  Henry,"  said,  he  rising.  "You 
surprised  me — just  from  home?" 

"Yes;  grew  weary  of  looking  at  the  'woman-kind,'  and 
thought  to  come  over  and  tax  your  time.  What  pamphlet 
is  that  which  seems  to  have  so  absorbed  you?" 

"The  Virginia  and  Kentucky  Resolutions.  I  happened 
to  pick  it  up  after  breakfast,  and  becoming  interested,  had 
not  laid  it  down.  It  contains  the  notes  upon  them,  of  Pro- 
fessor— " 

"  Have  you  a  mind  to  join  the  State  Rights  party  ?  " 

"  No ;  yet  the  doctrine  has  some  very  plausible  reasons 
in  its  behalf,  to  say  the  least." 

"Pshaw!  the  devil!  fiddlesticks,  man  —  Utopian,  absurd 
—  nothing  short  of  the  immaculacy  of  angels  could  carry 
out  the  idea.  No  people  on  earth  before  ours  ever  tried 
to  live  under  tivo  governments  at  once ;  and  taken  in  con- 
nection with  human  nature  as  it  is,  the  doctrine  is  bound 
to  lead  to  collision  and  destruction  of  what  we  are  pleased 
to  call  our  republican  government,  but  that  would  be  no 
damned  bad  idea.  If  we  admit  these  resolutions  to  be  the 
true  text  of  the  Constitution,  we  had  better  have  given 
over  the  whole  thing  to  Jefl^erson,  and  let  him  run  the 
machine,  for  no  one  else  ever  caught  the  idea.  They  are 
the  embodyment  of  his  visionary  nonsensicalities  —  partly 
derived  from  Locke,  partly  from  the  revolutionary  French 
"writers,  and  twisted  into  their  present  shape  by  his  own  idio- 
syncratic mind." 

"  Why,  Henry,  you  must  have  swallowed  a  paper  of  tacks. 
You  don't  appear  to  think  much  of  our  great  constitutional 


238  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

apostle,  nor  of  republics  either.     You  must  have  been  in 
close  confab  with  your  uncle  Robert." 

"  Uncle  Robert !  Your  grandmother's  goose !  I  expect 
he  is  a  very  clever  man,  but  he  has  but  a  poor  share  of 
independence,  and  therefore  not  a  man  for  me  to  copy  after 
in  anything." 

"  Hah !  —  what 's  the  matter  now,  Henry  ?" 
"Oh,  nothing;  but  speaking  of  old  Jefferson  and  repub- 
lics—  I  am  happy  to  say  that  I  have  not  the  least  infatu- 
ation in  those  directions,  Mr.  Robert  Brandon  pro  or 
con ;  but  Jefferson  really  puts  off  the  tricks  and  quirks  of 
intellect  for  intellect  itself.  And  as  to  republics,  I  should 
have  thought  that  that  damned  Puritan  effort,  with  Crom- 
well in  the  lead,  and  the  woful  experiment  of  France, 
would  have  satisfied  all  the  world  of  the  absurdity  of  the 
idea  of  men  being  capable  of  governing  themselves ;  but 
we  have  got  the  old  shoe  revamped,  and  think  to  wear  it, 
and  while  our  country  is  a  forest,  and  men  do  not  live 
nearer  than  in  cock-crow  of  each  other,  it  may  work  very 
well ;  but  just  wait  till  they  step  on  one  another's  heels,  and 
then  will  come  the  explosion.  We  could  live  under  any 
form  of  government  just  now  —  the  worst  despotism  could 
not  hurt  us,  with  our  territory  and  resources;  but  just 
wait  till  we  come  in  sight  of  each  other,  and  interests 
begin  to  clash  —  if  you  want  your  eyes  to  feast  on  ruin. 
There  will  not  be  a  vestige  of  this  thing  left  in  twenty-five 
years,  and  in  fifty  years  we  will  not  be  able  to  locate  the 
idea  of  an  American  Republic,  any  more  than  we  can 
locate  the  site  of  Troy  or  the  garden  of  Eden ;  and  old 
Jefferson,  Washington,  Adams  &  Co.  will  be  as  great 
myths  as  Priam,  Hector,  and  Achilles,  or  Adam ;  and  we 
will  be  farther  from  freedom  than  if  we  had  never  at- 
tempted the  foolish  but  dangerous  experiment.  It  will, 
indeed,  then  require  the  very  worst  form  of  a  despotism  to 
get  us  back  to  even  a  decent  standard  of  conduct  and  feel- 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  239 

ing.  No,  men  are  but  little  more  fit  for  self-government 
than  the  brute  creation ;  the  Alitijghty  never  intended  the 
idea  to  pass  even  into  the  appearance  of  a  system,  further 
than  as  a  sort  of  penance  or  crucible,  through  which  they 
should  pass  for  purification  from  some  great  pestilential 
contamination.  If  there  was  nothing  else  to  disprove  the 
idea  of  men  being  capable  of  self-government,  the  mere 
fact  of  such  as  Clay  and  "Webster  being  held  in  subordi- 
nate places  to  such  as  Van  Buren,  Polk,  *  et  id  omne,'  is 
a  complete  demonstration.  Just  look  at  all  the  various 
causes  that  work  the  defeat  of  such  men,  and  you  will  see 
your  idea  is  perfectly  untenable  —  not  reconcilable  to  the 
first  legitimate  purpose  of  government." 

"  Well,  Sir  Satirist,  what  style  would  please  you  ? " 

*'  Just  that  which  every  sensible  man  knows  is  the  only 
one  under  which  men  can  or  will  live  in  peace,  and  that 
to  which  every  civilized  people  have  returned  to,  whatever 
may  have  been  their  departures  from  it  —  a  constitutional 
monarchy,  or  any  other  sort  of  monarchy,  in  preference  to 
the  turbulent  anarchy  of  a  republic.  All  governments 
based  upon  the  idea  of  man's  capacity  for  self-govern- 
ment —  from  Adam  in  Eden  down  to  the  American  people 
—  have  and  will  prove  terrible  failures  —  first  a  republic, 
then  democracy,  then  anarchy,  then  despotism,  and  last  a 
monarchy,  is  the  short  history  of  all  governments  and 
people." 

"  Plenry,  you  are  wild  this  morning.  Is  your  digestion 
good?  are  your  bilious  secretions  all  right?" 

"Never  better;  but  I  may  be  a  little  jaundiced  this 
morning,  as  I  have  reason  to  fear  that  some  of  my  small 
matters  are  not  working  smoothly.  If  I  had  a  little  des- 
potic power  —  rather  think  I  could  bring  them  all  right." 

"  Ah,  my  boy !  I  fear  you  are  approaching  a  premature 
senility.  I  have  never  seen  you  unable  before  to  control 
your  affairs  as  you  wished." 


240  BLOOM    AN  DBRIER. 

"  Something  of  the  sort,  perhaps ;  bat  I  have  truly  fallen 
ipto  an  evil  place  this  time,  I  fear.  One  that  I  cannot  get 
my  hand  on  —  it  eludes  me." 

"What  has  happened  so  disastrous  to  the  fortunes  of 
^neas?" 

"Just  a  new  leaf  I  have  turned  over  in  the  ' Ars  Ama- 
toma,'  which  I  doubt  my  capacity  to  translate." 

"  Stop  your  enigmas  and  tell  me  your  trouble." 

Henry  then  told  him  the  probable  state  of  affairs  between 
himself  and  Laura,  when  Hunter  advised  him  to  the  course 
which  he  thought  best  for  the  present.  But  to  the  sugges- 
tion of  calling  on  Laura  the  next  day,  and  getting  her 
consent  to  let  him  speak  to  her  father  in  regard  to  the 
affair,  Brandon  laughed,  and  said : 

"Tom,  to-morrow  is  Friday,  man;  an  ominous  day  to 
begin  an  important  work." 

"  Pshaw !  my  good  fellow,  put  Friday  in  your  pocket, 
and  go  along  about  your  work.  There  is  no  man  in  as  bad 
luck  as  he  that  puts  off  till  to-morrow." 

"  ^yell,  I  will  do  as  you  say ;  but  I  have  no  idea  that  any 
good  will  come  of  it — it's  gone — gone  to  the  devil !  —  past 
praying  for.  Some  things  I  know  so  well,  as  never  to 
trouble  myself  about  the  wherefore  —  fate!" 

"  Faint  heart  never  won  fair  woman." 

"  No,  nor  any  sort  ever  won  a  conceited  old  one." 

"  Conceit  in  weakest  bodies  works  strongest,  Shak- 
speare  informs  us,  and  as  he  knows  every  thing,  I  suppose 
he  told  the  truth." 

The  conversation  now  gradually  ran  into  other  channels, 
and  the  day  was  spent  in  such  ways  as  young  men  under 
such  circumstances  usually  dispose  of  them.  The  weather 
growing  colder,  Henry  left  rather  early  after  dinner  on  that 
account.  They  had  not  ridden  far,  when  "  Sam  Brandon" 
rode  up  to  his  side,  and  in  a  sort  of  confidential  tone, 
said: 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  241 

"]\Iass  ITonry,  what's  all  thi.s  hully-be-lu  they  is  gittin' 
up  'bout  you  aud  ^liss  Laura?" 

"Hully-be-lu,  Sam?  what  do  you  mean  by  that? — is 
there  any  such  thing  going  on?" 

"  Why,  yes,  sir,  they  is  making  a  big  to  do,  I  hears ;  but 
its  all  *  nigger  news,'  and  maybe  it  ain't  so." 

"  What  have  you  heard  ?  " 

"  I  hears  Miss  Laura  stays  in  her  room,  and  ole  Miss 
Catherine  is  mad  as  she  can  be  with  everybody,  and  you 
in  particular.  Mass  Robert  he  says  nothin',  but  keeps  out 
in  the  plantation." 

"That  is  a  hully-be-lu,  as  you  call  it,  and  we  must  go 
over  and  see  about  it ;  and  what  I  can't  find  out,  you  must." 

"  I  will  that ;  for  the  niggers  all  knows,  and  I  hear  they 
is  mity  mad  about  it.  Miss  Laura,  you  see,  is  the  favorite  of 
'em  all.  But  anyhow,  if  old  Miss  Catherine  went  to  makin' 
too  much  fuss,  1  would  go  to  see  some  other  young  lady. 
S'pose  you  go  to  see  ole  Mass  Gray's  daughter,  she  is  a 
mity  fine-lookin*  young  lady  —  rich  till  thar  ain't  no  end  to 
it,  and  she  was  rale  struck  with  you;  I  sede  it  —  niggers 
knows  them  sort  of  things;  and  thar's  a  beautiful  one  at 
Judge  Hunter's,  not  long  come  thar,  and  is  going  to  wait 
on  Miss  Violet." 

"Yes  —  well,  I  will  see  about  this  other  first,  Sam." 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  cose ;  but  I  would'n'  stan'  'em  raisin'  a  rackit 
over  my  head  ;  an'  you  know  they  alw'ys  did  say  th^it  every 
thing  had  to  go  as  Miss  Catherine  said  —  the  old  devil  can't 
turn  her  head  when  it  once  gits  sot." 

As  "Sam  Brandon"  ended  these  wise  suggestions,  Henry 
rather  impatiently  struck  off  in  a  swift  gallop,  saying  to 
himself,  "  The  devil  must  be  in  my  luck,  even  Sam  must 
take  part  and  recommend  —  Miss  Gray.  Very  well,  we 
shall  see." 
21 


242  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 


CHAPTER    XXXYL 

"  The  good  are  better  made  by  ill, 
As  odors  crushed  are  sweeter  still." 

THE  following  morning,  in  accordance  with  the  sugges- 
tion of  Hunter,  Henry  Brandon  went  over  to  see 
Laura,  for  the  purpose  of  learning  the  actual  condition  of 
things,  and  if  possible  to  make  some  more  reliable  arrange- 
ment of  their  relationship. 

Reaching  there,  he  was  met  by  his  aunt,  who  appeared 
more  gracious  than  usual,  or  at  least  than  he  expected  ; 
and  he  at  once  began  to  think  that  his  fears  were  either 
unfounded,  or  that  she  had  carried  her  point.  Assuming 
his  customary  gayety  of  manner,  he  soon  asked  for  his 
uncle  and  the  girls. 

Mr.  Brandon  came  to  the  parlor,  as  soon  as  he  heard 
that  Henry  was  there,  though  at  the  very  time  in  the  act 
of  riding  out.  Everything  appeared  as  natural  and  easy 
as  usual,  and  conversation  was  going  glibly  along  on  gen- 
era:! matters,  when  Lucy  entered  the  room  unaccompanied 
by  her  sister.  "Ah!  something  in  that,"  said  Henry  to 
himself;  but  choosing  not  to  notice  it,  rose  and  met  Lucy 
with  his  ever-merry  face  and  salutation. 

""Where  is  the  Lady  Laura  this  morning?"  he  at  length 
ventured  to  ask. 

"  She  will  be  here  directly,"  Lucy  replied. 

At  this  moment  !Mr.  Brandon  took  occasion  to  leave 
the  room,  asking  Henry  to  excuse  him  for  an  hour  or  so, 
but  asking  him  also  to  remain  till  his  return,  as  he  wished 
to  see  him. 

Mrs.  Brandon  had  already  left  the  room,  but  as  if  from 
no  unusual  cause ;  Henry,  finding  himself  alone  with  Lucy, 
had  just  begun  to  inform  her  of  what  he  had  heard,  when 


BLOOM     AXD     BRIER.  243 

Laura  entered  8he  met  him  pleasantly,  but  with  so  evi- 
dently a  subdued  manner  as  at  once  to  expose  the  suf- 
fering of  some  mental  conflict  now  past.  He  endeavored  to 
rattle  along  in  his  usual  vein,  but  had  manifestly  wearied 
in  the  eflfbrt,  when  he  recovered  and  said : 

"Girls,  we  have  all  certainly  been  to  a  'Methodist, 
meetin' '  —  we  are  as  serious  as  if  we  had  been  on  the 
mourner's  seat,  or  preparing  our  ascension  robes  in  honor 
of  Miller's  prophecy.  I  mean  this  more  for  you  than 
for  myself — but  even  /  feel  some  sort  of  embarrassment, 
which,  you  know,  is  not  often  the  case;  I  therefore 
propose  a  little  music  by  way  of  thaw  to  this  rigidity. 
Come,  Lucy,  you  hold  a  very  nice  relationship  to  one  we 
know  ;  suppose  you  sing  a  love-soug  —  in  character." 

"No,  cousin,  I  am  not  in  that  mood  this  morning;  I  am 
thinking  of  briefs,  declarations,  and  professional  matters 
generally,"  said  Lucy,  rather  affecting  to  be  cheerful. 

"  Oh,  I  had  thought  you  had  gone  higher  in  your  case, 
and  was  now  ready  for  trial.  I  really  wish  to  hear  you 
both  sing,  as  I  fear  some  great  evil  has  befallen  your  voices. 
Come,  Laura,  suppose,  then,  you  try  yours  first." 

Laura  responded  with  a  faint  smile,  but  made  no  motion 
as  if  to  rise.  Henry,  observing  her  rather  listless  look,  rose 
himself  and  said,  "Come,  cousin,  sing,  play,  or  talk,  or  I 
shall  leave  in  twenty  seconds  —  I  am  growing  frantic." 

"You  promised  father  to  remain  until  his  return,"  said 
Lucy. 

"  So  I  did,  but  I  did  n't  promise  to  let  his  girls  freeze  me 
to  death  during  his  absence.  Business  is  about  the  last 
thing  I  ever  intend  to  respond  to ;  your  trades-people  attend 
to  business.  At  all  events,  I  can  meet  him  in  one  of  the 
temperate  latitudes  and  attend  to  what  he  wants — this  is 
a  frigid  zone.  But  come,  my  fair  kinswoman,"  said  he, 
as  he  rose  and  took  Laura  by  the  hand,  "  allow  me  to  sup- 
port you  to  the  piano ;  and  I  beseech  you  to  let  one  more 


244  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

ray  of  genial  warmth  and  happiness  gladden  your  sad 
face.  Come,  sing  a  song  of  joy  and  love^  and  I  will  even 
join  you." 

Laura  rose  at  this,  and,  walking  to  the  piano,  asked  him 
"what  she  should  sing  for  him. 

"Yes  —  I  am  obliged;  well,  there  is  a  sweet  old  song 
that  just  occurs  to  me  —  and  I  have  n't  heard  it  for  years  — 
beginning  with  these  beautiful  words  — 

"  *  If  a  body  meet  a  body 

Comin'  through  the  rye. 
And  a  body  kiss  a  body, 
Xeed  a  body  cry  ? '  " 

Lucy  had  purposely  left  the  room  as  Laura  rose  to  go  to 
the  piano,  and  when  Henry  had  finished  the  words,  he  gal- 
lantly leaned  over,  and  kissed  her  colorless  cheek.  She  made 
no  resistance,  but  neither  spoke  nor  smiled,  and  immedi- 
ately began  to  sing,  in  a  low  voice,  that  really  beautiful  old 
love-song  of  "Go,  forget  me,"  and,  though  perhaps  she  did 
not  know  it,  sang  a  destiny.  She  had  sung  but  a  few  lines, 
-when  her  voice  became  so  tremulous  as  to  compel  her  to 
stop.  Henry  Brandon  now  laid  his  arm  gently  around  her 
neck,  and  said : 

"  Laura,  dear  Laura,  what  is  it  that  so  greatlv  troubles 
you?" 

For  a  few  moments  neither  spoke ;  but  she,  seeming  to 
recover,  gently  displaced  his  arm,  and  rising  from  her  seat, 
said  to  him,  in  a  soft,  low  voice  : 

"  Cousin,  can  you  forgive  my  woman's  lips  for  having 
spoken  what  my  woman's  courage  is  too  weak  to  execute?" 
Then  taking  his  hand,  she  said,  "  I  once  told  you  that  my 
heart  was  yours,  and  partially  promised  you  my  hand,  and 
still  so  much  is  this  the  truth,  that  neither  will  ever  be 
another's." 

"Oh,  Laura!   Laura!  this  is   too  bad — too  bad;   tell 


BLOOM     A  N  1)     BRIER.  245 

me   why    these    strange   words,    and    why    this    singular 
course?" 

"  Do  not  pain  me,  cousin,  by  asking  that  question  ;  you 
know  the  cause." 

She  then  proceeded  to  inform  him  that  she  had  dropped 
his  h\st  letter  to  her,  while  walking  in  the  garden,  from 
her  bosom,  that  it  had  been  picked  up  by  a  servant,  who 
knew  not  to  whom  it  belonged,  and  taken  to  her  mother, 
who,  at  once  recognizing  the  handwriting,  sent  for  her  and 
rather  demanded  to  know  the  nature  of  it. 

"  I  thought  it  as  favorable  an  opportunity  as  I  should 
ever  have,"  she  continued,  "and  told  her  of  the  whole 
affair —  from  girlhood  till  now." 

"What  did  she  say?"  he  asked,  eagerly,  with  his  heart 
almost  choking  his  utterance. 

"  She  spoke  of  you  appreciating! y  in  many  things,  but 
dwelt  upon  your  wildness,  your  youth,  and,  above  all,  on 
our  being  cousins,  which,  she  said,  she  never  could  become 
reconciled  to,  and 'could  never  feel  to  you  as  she  should  to 
my  —  husband  —  as  to  a  natural  member  of  her  family." 

"Did  you  consent  to  these  objections?"  in  a  voice  illy 
concealing  his  contempt. 

"No,  not  one  moment,  and  you  wrong  me  by  asking 
Fuch  a  question." 

"What  feeling,  then,  made  you  yield?" 
"  Cousin,  you  know  that  ive  are  but  tico,  that  we  have 
been  reared  immediately  under  our  mother's  eye ;  her  wishes 
have  ever  been  our  law,  and  a  law  \Vhich  we  delighted  to 
obey.  On  her  part,  our  pleasure  and  happiness  have  ever 
been  the  leading  objects  of  her  life ;  therefore  I  can  not  — 
know  not,  how  to  go  counter  to  her  wishes,  and  even  have 
conscientious  scruples  on  that  point.  To  become  jouru-ife 
under  such  circumstances,  would  be  to  receive  me  as  in 
some  sort  with  a  perjured  heart,  and  no  blessing  could  fol- 
low such  acknowledged  filial  disobedience.  I  have  there- 
21* 


246  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

fore  thought  it  would  be  best  for  your  happiness,  at  least, 
and  possibly  for  my  own,  that  we  —  dissolve  —  the  promise 
we  are  under  to  each  other,  and  try  and  forget  it." 

"Laura,  my  dear  ♦Laura,"  said  he,  greatly  excited  and 
seizing  both  her  hands  in  his,  "  are  your  heart-strings  made 
of  steel  that  you  can  sweep  them  so  rudely,  or  expect  to 
hush  their  deep  throbbingsby  such  rough  handling;  and  to 
crush,  too,  your  first  affection  as  you  say  this  is,  and  as  I 
know  it  to  be  to  a  mere  idea  —  a  conscientious  scruple  as 
you  call  it?  This  is  superstition,  not  reverence;  fear,  not 
love.  I,  too,  have  a  high  reverence  for  filial  obedience,  but 
still  I  think  the  obligation  mutual.  Obedience  should  not 
be  exacted  at  an  entire  sacrifice  of  feeling — particularly, 
when  demanded  at  the  suggestion  —  I  must  say  it — of  wil- 
fulness  and  prejudice.  When  all  the  facts  are  well  known 
to  the  younger  parties,  control  presently  passes  from  the 
parent's  hand.  Nature  more  clearly  points  out  the  way 
than  reason." 

"  Oh  !  cousin,  speak  no  unkind  word  of  my  mother  :  she 
does  not  deserve  it  —  indeed  she  does  not." 

"Nor  do  you  deserve  to  be  held  in  this  strange  position. 
I  do  appreciate  all  of  her  high  and  kind  qualities ;  but  still 
I  think  her  pushing  her  authority  to  an  unwarranted  limit. 
At  best,  she  can  but  wither  up  your  feelings,  she  cannot 
direct  them,  or  control  them." 

"She  has  exercised  no  undue  authority,  cousin.  She 
has  only  expressed  her  opinions,  her  feelings,  and  her 
wishes." 

"  I  grant  you ;  but  then  she  knows  such  expression  is 
equal  to  authority  with  you,  or  she  would  endeavor  to  do 
more.  If  this  is  not  so,  Laura,  then  you  alone  are  responsi- 
ble for  your  course,  and  as  you  do  not  desire  your  mother's 
consent,  I  cannot  ask  yours ;  but  just  take  it  for  granted, 
that  you  have  heretofore  mistaken  your  own  feelings,  and 
let  us  in  all  truth  dissolve  the  promise  forever  / '' 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  247 

These  words  sounded,  indeed,  much  like  a  last  fiircwcll, 
as  he  released  her  hands;  which  falling  motionless  to  her 
side,  she  stood  before  him  with  an  ashen  paleness  on  her 
cheek,  and,  without  even  the  utterance  of  a  sigh,  sank  down 
to  her  chair.  With  a  mixed  look  of  vacancy  and  wild 
despair  she  gazed  him  in  the  face,  with  that  expression  of 
helpless  reproach  which  only  a  soft  eye  and  a  breaking 
heart  ever  assume. 

Brandon,  seeing  the  strange  effects  of  his  words,  quickly 
drew  to  her  side,  and  pressed  his  cheek  to  hers  as  he  again 
took  her  hand  in  his.     Seeming  to  revive,  she  said: 

"Oh!  cousin,  cousin!  what  must  I  do!  what  can  I  do?" 

The  truth  was,  that  trained  up  as  she  had  been,  obedience 
to  her  mother  was  not  only  a  law  unto  her  life  but  a  part 
of  her  religion ;  and  she  had  promised  her,  after  a  severe 
conflict  between  obedience  and  affection,  that  she  would 
break  up  the  engagement  which  existed  between  herself 
and  Henry  Brandon.  But  she  had  done  so,  not  without  a 
lingering  hope  that  she  might  still  occupy  some  relation  to 
him,  through  which  a  future  arrangement  could  be  effected. 
She  had  not  realized  the  full  force  of  the  promise  to  her 
mother ;  and  above  all,  did  not  know  the  full  extent  of  her 
affection  for  Henry  Brandon,  until  she  saw  the  tie  between 
them  about  to  sever.  This  she  was  not  prepared  for  — 
could  never  be. 

Henry  Brandon  looked  deep  down  into  her  clear,  inno- 
cent eye,  and  saw  nothing  there  but  girlhood's  maiden  love, 
as  she  asked  him  the  question  in  the  soft  tones  of  sweet 
appeal.  In  an  instant,  all  the  fiery  energy  of  his  heart  rose 
to  his  lips  and,  in  low  but  earnest  language,  said : 

"  Laura,  I  scarcely  know  what  to  tell  you ;  but  this  I 
feel,  that  I  cannot  quietly  yield  up  the  longest  hope  of  my 
life,  nor  can  I  now  shut  out  from  my  soul  the  gentle  star 
that  has  ever  floated  in  the  far-off  heaven,  and  by  its  silver 
light  guided  the  wayward  walk  of  boy  and  man  in  the 


248  BLOOM     AXD     BEIER. 

paths  of  peace  and  safety,  joy  and  love ;  only  say  once 
more  that  your  heart  is  mine,  and  no  earthly  thing  or  word 
shall  throw  a  shadow  on  the  sunlight  of  my  life." 

At. these  impassioned  words  of  Henry,  a  joyous  bright- 
ness came  back  to  her  eye,  and  the  delicate  blush  of  maiden 
feeling  again  bloomed  upon  her  youthful  face ;  and  rising 
from  her  seat,  with  an  animation  that  told  of  a  partially 
regained  confidence  and  happiness,  which  but  a  few  min- 
utes before  had  appeared  fled,  she  asserted  with  a  spirit  she 
had  not  previously  shown  — 

**  Cousin,  by  all  the  chaste  laws  of  woman's  love,  and  by 
all  that  is  sacred  in  a  woman's  truth  and  virtue,  my  heart 
is  only  yours  —  no  other  has  ever  made  a  passing  impress 
there.  The  spraying  stream  of  childhood,  and  that  where 
the  brook  and  river  meet  of  girl  and  womanhood,  have 
never,  on  their  glittering  currents,  borne  any  other  bark 
than  that  which  promised  to  bear  me  on  the  great  ocean 
of  life,  with  Henry  Brandon  at  my  side ;  and  when  in  my 
sleeping  dreams  or  waking  visions  that  bark  passes  beyond 
my  sight,  life  becomes  one  great  sea  of  madness,  darkness, 
and  despair."  Then  placing  her  hand  softly  upon  his  arm, 
in  all  the  confidence  of  boundless  affection,  she  continued  : 
"  But  with  that  in  view,  a  picture  floats  before  me,  in  which 
the  waves  are  all  calm,  the  earth  all  bright,  and  the  skies 
all  blue.  In  these  moments,  the  probable  storms  of  life, 
and  all  vicissitude,  are  shorn  of  their  sti-ength,  and  robbed 
of  their  terrors.  Now,  forgive  me,  cousin,  for  thus  express- 
ing to  you  the  deep  and  glowing  emotions  of  my  heart- 
life — they  have  ever  clustered  around  your  name,  and  you 
are  entitled  to  know  them." 

This  demonstration  of  feeling  from  Laura,  under  the 
particular  circumstances,  seemed  to  give  his  heart  a  joy  it 
had  never  known  before ;  and  smiling  with  the  thought  of 
possessing  the  undivided  love  of  so  noble,  so  pure,  and  so 
grand  a  girl,  a   thousand  generous   and    manly  resolves 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  249 

rushed  to  his  heart.  Laura  again  broke  the  silence,  which 
he  seemed  powerless  to  do,  by  saying :  "  And  now  you  know 
me,  cousin,  and  whatever  I  have  appeared  or  may  appear  in 
future,  I  yet  have  ever  been  what  I  say  I  am  to-day;  and 
what  I  am  to-day,  I  will  ever  be !  Remember  that !  and 
now,  I  will  prefer  you  not  meeting  father  or  mother  to-day ; 
you  nor  I  can  effect  anything  now  ;  prospects  may  brighten 
of  themselves.  I  w^ill  now  excuse  you  and  let  you  go,  which 
they  will  think  quite  natural,"  at  the  same  time  extending 
him  her  hand,  with  an  effort  to  smile  at  the  innocent  ruse 
she  was  practising.  Henry  Brandon  laughed  a  low  joyous 
laugh,  as  he  caught  the  unsuspecting  girl  in  his  arms  and 
kissing  her  now  ruby  lips,  tripped  lightly  from  the  house, 
and  mounting  his  horse  rode  swiftly  away. 

All  right  now  thought  the  gay  and  happy  Henry  Bran- 
don. But  who  yet  hath  ever  cast  the  horoscope  of  Love? 
We  shall  see  whether  he  did  or  not. 


A^ 


CHAPTER    XXXVIL 

"  Let  me  have  men  about  me  that  are  fat, 
Sleek-headed  men,  and  such  as  sleep  o'  nights." 

S  Henry  Brandon  wildly  galloped  his  horse  over  the 
.  gently  rolling  prairie,  his  bosom  throbbed  with  all  the 
tumultuous  emotions  which  the  scenes  he  had  that  morning 
passed  through,  were  well  calculated  to  inspire.  Hope, 
doubt,  and  fear,  alternately  held  supremacy.  He  could  not 
see  why  his  suit  with  Laura  should  fail,  yet  could  not  real- 
ize that  it  would  succeed.  The  charm  had  been  broken, 
and  he  feared  the  consequences.  He,  however,  tried  to  com- 
fort himself  with  his  usual  careless  sort  of  philosophy, 
and  said  to  himself,  "  I'll  trust  to  fortune,  and  take  the 


250  BLOOM     AND     BRIER. 

chances  as  they  rise;  and  well  I  may  —  I  can  do  nothing 
more,  ha!  ha!  ha!  "     Then  turning  to  Sam,  he  said  : 

"  Well,  how  did  matters  look  to-day,  Sam  ?  " 

"  Right  hot,  I  tell  you.  Mass  Henry,  accordin'  to  Sally's 
'count  of  it." 

"  You  don't  think  there  is  much  chance  for  master  or 
man  with  mistress  or  maid,  there  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  zactly  understans  you,  sir ;  but  they 
ain't  much  chance,  if  that's  what  you  mean  —  things  ain't 
goiu'  right,  but  Sally  says  Miss  Laura  is  hard  to  give  up, 
and  Miss  Lucy  stans  right  up  to  her ;  but  Miss  Catherine 
is  strong  agin  you." 

"How  about  Uncle  Robert?" 

"  She  says  he  don't  say  a  word  for  you,  nor  agin  you, 
and  won't  listen  to  the  talk ;  but  Sally  says  you  will  win 
if  you  holds  on  —  if  you  will  play  right  smart." 

"  Yes ;  but  smart  does  n't  do  much  good  in  such  cases,  't  is 
all  luck,  Sam  !  " 

"You  is  zactly  right  'bout  that  —  for  what  is  to  be  will 
be,  and  I  don't  care  what  anybody  does." 

"  That 's  so,  Sam." 

"  Mass  Henry,  Miss  Laura  is  one  of  the  nicest  young 
ladies  they  is ;  but  I  wouldn'  let  nobody  make  sich  a  fuss 
'bout  me,  as  Miss  Catherine  is  makin'  about  you.  J  says, 
go  somewhar  else  — just  as  good  fish  in  the  sea,  as  was  ever 
cotch  out." 

"  Yes ;  I  expect  it  will  turn  out  that  way  at  last ;  but 
let 's  ride  faster,  Sam,  and  get  home  to  dinner." 

Henry  Brandon  passed  several  days  at  home,  after  his 
customary  fashion,  hunting,  riding  over  the  neighborhood, 
jcud  several  times  visiting  his  cousins.  Mrs.  Brandon  w^as 
under  the  impression  that  the  engagement  between  Laura 
and  him  was  finally  broken  up,  and  was  therefore  rather 
disposed  to  receive  him  after  her  old  fashion ;  but  kept,  as 
she  thought,  very  close  watch,  and  not  unfrequently  alluded 


■  ? 


BLOOM     AND    BRIER.  251 

to  the  bad  results  of  marria2;es  entered  into  without  proper 
consideration.  By  the  advice  and  recpiest  of  Laura,  he 
showed  no  temper  in  regard  to  what  had  happened,  and  thus 
threw  her  completely  off  the  track. 

The  evening  before  the  appointed  time  for  going  to  the 
gander-pulling  had  at  length  arrived,  and  Henry  gave  full 
directions  to  Sam  about  being  ready  to  go  with  him,  by  the 
time  breakfast  was  over  with. 

"Yes,  sir;  I'll  have  everything  right;  but,  Mass  Henry, 
what  is  a  gander-puUin  ?  I  has  never  hearn  of  sich  a 
thing." 

"  AVell,  I  can't  exactly  explain  it  to  you — just  wait,  you 
will  see  it ;  but  don't  you  speak  of  it  among  the  servants. 
I  don't  wish  it  to  get  out  where  I  am  going,  or  where  we 
have  been  when  we  return." 

"  No,  s-i-r ;  this  chap  would  lose  his  ole  woolly  head  'fore 
he'd  tell  anything  whar  you  is  concerned  —  I  say  tell." 

The  following  morning  Mrs.  Brandon  saw  Sam  bringing 
out  the  horses,  and  inquired  of  her  son  where  he  was  going, 
that  he  should  leave  so  early. 

"  I  thought  that  I  would  ride  down  to  the  Hills  to-day, 
as  I  have  nothing  to  do.  I  have  some  curiosity  to  see  how 
my  old  haunts  look  after  four  years'  absence." 

"  Ah !  such  places  and  visits  will  do  well  enough  for  a 
boy,  probably,  but  not  for  a  grown  man,  my  son ;  such 
jaunts  are  looked  on  as  frolics,  and  the  world  will  not  per- 
mit men  to  frolic,  with  impunity,  and  if  you  wish  to  suc- 
ceed by  its  assistance,  you  must  regard  its  prejudices  —  if 
you  choose  so  to  call  its  opinions." 

"  Mother,  I  regard  your  opinion  more  than  any  one's  on 
earth,  and  you  know  that  I  have  never  had  any  purpose 
in  visiting  those  people  beyond  a  mere  desire  of  innocent 
amusement ;  and  as  to  what  is  called  the  world,  let  me 
assure  you  that  I  do  not  value  its  opinion  three  jack-straws. 
I  intend  never  to  do  a  wrong,  but  will  do  just  as  I  please, 


252  BLOOM    AXD    BRIEPw. 

and  am  perfectly  willing  for  the  world  to  do  the  same.  If 
the  world  can  do  without  me,  I  am  vain  enough  to  think  I 
can  do  without  the  world ;  and  this  thing  called  public 
opinion  is  but  little  else  than  an  expression  of  the  conceit, 
ignorance,  and  prejudice  of  the  common  multitude,  and  is 
really  the  source  of  nine-tenths  of  the  troubles  of  life.  I  had 
rather  know,  in  my  old  age,  that  I  had,  even  for  one  day 
only,  defied  the  opinion  of  all  the  sublime  and  solemn 
fools  of  society,  than  to  be  the  recipient  of  any  honors  they 
can  confer." 

"I  must  have  touched  you  on  some  tender  spot,  my  son," 
said  his  mother,  smiling,  "as  you  appear  to  have  had  your 
homily  all  prepared  —  so  I  will  say  no  more ;  but  let  me 
ask  you  not  to  remain  there  to-night." 

"  No,  madam ;  not  if  I  can  well  get  back ;  but  I  may 
stay,  as  you  know  those  people  used  to  make  quite  a  pet 
of  me,  and  if  I  am  still  as  popular,  I  may  remain." 

"  Yes,  your  popularity  got  you  a  very  wild  name  —  one 
that  will  cling  to  you  forever." 

"Well,  mother,  I  expect  I  deserve  it,  and  I  must  consent 
to  abide  by  it." 

"  I  know  you  will  have  your  way,  Henry  ;  but  there  are 
other  eyes  on  you  than  mine,  who  will  not  judge  you  so 
leniently." 

"  To  whom  do  you  allude,  mother  ?  —  my  dear  aunt  ?  " 

"  My  remark  is  a  general  one ;  you  may  make  a  partic- 
ular application  of  it,  if  you  w^ill." 

"I  will  just  then  make  that  application  of  it,  and  tell 
you  that  I  imagine  myself  just  as  badly  damaged  there  as 
I  can  ever  be." 

At  these  words  he  walked  out  of  the  house,  and,  in  a  few 
moments  more,  was  on  his  horse.  When  he  reached  the 
appointed  place  of  meeting,  he  found  Dr.  Wilton  already 
there.  Exchanging  salutations,  they  immediately  galloped 
off,  and  reached  Manese's  about  11  o'clock.     Miller  was 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  253 

already  there,  accompanied  by  quite  a  number  of  his 
immediate  comrades,  and  was  expecting  Henry  Brandon. 
As  the  latter  rode  up.  Miller  met  him,  expressing  great 
pleasure  at  seeing  him. 

Henry  Brandon,  as  we  have  said,  had  known  nearly 
every  one  that  was  present,  in  his  younger  days;  and  the 
old  acquaintance  was  now  renewed  by  each  one  coming 
and  shaking  hands,  and  passing  a  few  pleasant  words  with 
him.  Seeing  that  Henry  had  pretty  well  gone  the  rounds, 
Miller,  in  a  loud  voice  intended  for  all  to  hear,  said : 

"Come  into  the  grocery  now,  boys,  and  take  a  'smile' 
at  my  expense ; "  and  then  saying,  in  rather  an  under-tone, 
"  come,  Henry,  let 's  you  and  I  take  something  thin  to- 
gether for  the  sake  of  '  auld  lang  syne.'  " 

"I  will  take  a  'wee  dhrap'  with  you,  Miller,  on  that 
score,  but  I  have  never  yet  learned  to  drink." 

"  Nor  had  I,  Henry,  until  just  before  that  dreadful  dif- 
ficulty ;  but  since  then  I  am  as  regular  to  my  grog  as  a  pig 
to  his  tracks,  and  I  am  free  to  say,  that  had  it  not  been  for 
whiskey,  there  would  never  have  been  anything  of  it. 
Drunkenness  is  the  big  curse  of  the  world ;  it 's  all  habit, 
and  the  damnedest,  meanest,  lowest,  worst  of  all  habits, 
and  if  God  will  help  me,  I  shall  forever  quit  it  after 
to-day." 

"  How  are  you  intending  to  proceed.  Miller,  to  get  out 
of  this  difficulty?" 

"  I  scarcely  know  —  but  I  am  now  getting  up  money  to 
leave  with,  and  to  assist  these  poor  boys,  whom  I  unfortu- 
nately have  involved  in  it,  with  me ;  but  they  appear  to 
care  less  for  it  than  I  do,  which  is  some  consolation  to  me ; 
and  if  I  am  not  disturbed  for  the  next  ten  days,  I  will  be 
able  to  get  them  off.  I  dislike  leaving  in  this  manner  on 
account  of  my  old  mother ;  but  for  the  killing  of  Hall,  I 
rejoice  at  it,  and  only  wish  he  had  a  hundred  lives,  that  I 
22 


254  BLOOM     AND     BRIER. 

might  take  every  one  of  them,  for  at  the  moment  I  shot 
him,  he  -was  cutting  my  old  father  with  a  bowie-knife." 

"  Where  do  you  expect  to  go  to,  Miller?" 

"  Oh,  to  Texas,  or  Arkansas,  where  all  the  outlaws  go, 
and  then  get  my  fool's  brains  shot  out  in  less  than  a  month 
by  some  desperado,  I  expect." 

"  How  many  of  your  friends  will  go  with  you  ?  " 

"  Only  some  two  or  three,  as  the  others  haye  as  yet  done 
nothing  that  the  law  can  get  hold  of." 

At  this  moment,  a  tall,  fine-looking  fellow  —  being  no 
other  than  Jack  Gaulding,  who  had  sent  him  the  inyita- 
tion — stepped  up,  and  said,  "Henry,  you  have  just  got 
back  with  a  great  college  edecashun  ;  but  I  'm  afeard  the 
damned  sheriff  will  run  us  boys  all  outen  the  country  'fore 
we  can  give  you  a  lift." 

"  Xo,  no,  I  hope  not,  on  your  own  account,  Jack,  to  say 
nothing  of  mine." 

"  But  there  is  danger  of  it,  certain  as  you  live." 

"Not  so  durn  much.  Jack,  as  mout  be  supposed.  Thar 's 
some  of  the  old  blue  hens'  chicks  will  stay  to  the  last  day 
in  the  mornin',  and  see  the  triflin'  devils  out,"  said  fighting 
Bob  Mosely. 

"That's  my  hand,  Fighting  Bob,"  said  Wire-grass  John 
Holmes ;  "  thar  's  nuthin'  kin  make  me  leave  'ceptin'  its 
wimin,  and  they  must  be  over  forty." 

"That's  so,"  responded  some  six  or  seven  who  were  stand- 
ing round,  w'ith  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  Yes,  you  is  true  to  wimin  an'  your  friends,"  said  Lazy 
Farl  Bowen.  "  By  my  mother's  suck,  you  talk  to  my 
notion." 

"I  am  greatly  obleged  to  you.  Lazy  Farl,"  answered 
Wire-grass ;  "but  you  are  too  durned  slow  to  git  outen  the 
way  of  either  man  or  woman — but  no  insult,  Farl." 

"But  here's  one  that  ain't  afraid  to  go  or  stay,"  said  a 
small  but  well-made  chap,  with  a  flashing  blue  eye  and 


B  L  O ()  M     A  N  I>     H  R  I  K  R  .  25o 

very  red  hair.  "  1  iiin  the  little  red  cock  that  crows  for 
day  at  the  old  widder  Higgiiis's  house ;  and  lets  no  dung- 
hill walk  his  walk,  or  tote  his  hens  —  no  s-i-r-ee,  he  don't." 

*'  Oh!  you  are  jokin'  now  —  the  biggest  sort,"  said  Yaller 
Bill  Skipper. 

"  A-jokin' !  the  hell,  I  never  jokes  on  sich  subjicks  when 
wimin  is  in  vogue." 

"  What  wimin  are  you  talkin'  about?" 

"  Darned  ef  I  know  ;  but  look  a-here,  Yaller  Bill,  do  you 
wish  to  pass  any  insinuations  ?  ef  a  row  is  what  you  want, 
old  fell',  just  shuck  your  dry  goods,  and  you  can  git  it  at 
the  shortest  notice." 

The  crowd  immediately  gathered  round,  for  the  purpose 
of  seeing  the  fight,  but  leaving  a  sufficient  hollow  circle 
for  the  combatants,  when  Dick  Wixx  from  the  outside  of 
the  crowd  called  out,  asking  in  his  well-known  manner : 

"  What  in  the  hell  are  you  wild-cats  at,  in  there  —  you, 
you  red-headed  cuss.  I  say,  if  I  hear  another  word  out  of 
your  dirty  little  fly-trap,  I  '11  come  in  there,  and  cut  round 
the  skin  of  your  neck,  and  unjint  your  head.  I  will,  damn 
me,  and  fire  burn  me." 

This  had  the  effect  of  drawing  off  all  attention  from  the 
proposed  combatants  to  Dick  Winn,  with  a  roar  of  laugh- 
ter, which,  in  a  rough-and-tumble  fight  such  as  we  used  to 
have,  amounted  to  breaking  it  up. 

"  Well,  Uncle  Dick,  as  that  ar'  you,  that  makes  those  re- 
marks, you  can  say  it,  as  you  is  a  privileged  char-ec-ter ; 
but  no  one  else  can  say  the  same,  I  '11  he  durned." 

"  Well,  that 's  good  enough  —  all  settled ;  and  now,  men," 
said  he  in  a  loud  voice,  '*  no  fights  will  be  expected  tillthe 
gander-pulling  is  over,  and  you  had  better  keep  your  cour- 
age for  the  sheriff,  who  I  expect  will  be  here  to-day,  any- 
how ;  but  anyways,  after  the  pulling  is  over  with,  we  shall 
expect  to  have,  at  least,  twenty  first-class  fights,  and  several 
eyes  lying  about  loose  on  the  ground,  and  as  many  ears  and 


256  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

noses  ;  and  rather  than  fall  short  of  the  number,  I  '11  agree 
to  mail  the  dog-water  out  of  five  or  six  of  you  myself — do 
you  understand  the  programme  now  ?  —  dang  it !  And  now, 
every  fellow  have  his  horse  ready  for  the  ride  against  his 
name  is  called."  He  then  cried  out  to  the  crowd,  and  in- 
formed them  that  Henry  Brandon,  Miller,  and  himself  had 
been  appointed  judges. 

Miller  immediately  declined,  and  asked  Dr.  Wilton  to 
act  in  his  place,  as  he  wished  to  ride,  or  would  be  expected 
to  do  so,  as  he  had  got  up  the  sport.  The  Doctor  accepting, 
Dick  Winn  called  them  together  and  instructed  them  in 
their  duties.  Dick  himself,  and  the  Doctor,  were  to  judge 
the  goose  stakes,  and  Henry  Brandon  was  to  act  at  the 
starting-point. 

Twenty  riders  had  already  entered  their  names  at  a  dol- 
lar a-piece.  These  were  soon  stripped  for  the  ride,  and  stood 
ready  to  hear  their  names  called,  which  Henry  Brandon 
was  to  do  after  drawing  them  from  a  hat. 

"  Gander -pulling"  was  one  of  the  many  muscular  pas- 
times practised  in  the  days  of  chivalry  on  festive  occasions, 
and  was  long  traditional  in  the  South  as  one  of  the  sports 
of  their  Korman  ancestry ;  and  as  one  of  the  thousands 
of  small  evidences  of  the  difference  in  —  race,  between  the 
Korthern  and  Southern  people. 

Whether  this  account  be  correct  or  not,  it  is  yet  histor- 
ical. And  while  the  Northern  people  were  severe  in  their 
laws  against  the  kissing  of  young  girls  by  their  lovers, 
whipping  cider-barrels  for  working  on  Sunday,  burning  old 
women  for  witches,  and  inventing  facial  and  thumb  screws 
for  the  torture  of  freshly  imported  African  slaves,  and 
groaning  under  the  whiniugs  of  some  brutal  "gospeller," 
the  Southern  people  were  having  their  deer-drives,  their 
fox-chases,  cock-fights,  gander- pulling s,  balls,  dances,  and 
duels. 

More  latterly,  while  their  temples  rang  with  prayers  for 


BLOOM     A  N  D     li  K  1  E  R  .  257 

the  opprcss«<l  negroes,  and  indulging  in  seli-laudatious  for 
their  surpassing  virtue  and  intelligence,  their  Avhole  land 
teemed  >vith  bastardy,  child -murder,  free- lovcism,  Mor- 
monism,  model  artists,  Black-Crook  exhibitions,  brothels, 
and  assignation,  and  iu  every  other  manner  of  crime  that 
even  makes  hell  itself  blush  in  modest  shame.  On  the  other 
hand,  let  the  truth  be  told.  Even  after  every  degradation 
and  ^Yrong,  which  the  North,  in  the  truculent  exercise  of 
power  has  inflicted,  the  Southern  people  themselves  began  a 
course  of  harassment  and  persecution,  almost  unparalleled 
iu  the  history  of  any  decent  people.  It  seemed  to  be  the  wish 
of  a  few  men  to  deprive  all  others  of  their  homes  and  the 
last  vestige  of  property,  iu  liquidation  of  debts  created 
under  an  entirely  difterent  state  of  affairs,  and  which  there 
was  subsequently,  and  now,  no  possible  chance  of  meeting; 
and  this  we  consider  quite  as  criminal  as  anything  the 
North  had  ever  been  guilty  of,  and  far  more  unfeeling. 

To  all  of  this  there  was  an  exceptional  class  on  either 
side,  and  upon  this  exceptional  class  will  devolve  the 
future  peace  and  welfare  of  this  continent  — not  govern- 
ment. 

To  revert  to  "  gander-pulling"  there  is  to  say,  that  it 
continued  to  be  one  of  the  popular  sports  of  the  South 
among  the  humble  classes  until  within  the  last  half-cen- 
tury. Since  then  it  has  measurably  passed  out  of  practice. 
This  was  the  only  one  the  writer  ever  witnessed,  and  the 
scene  of  it  was  at  a  little  country  grog-shop  on  the  public 

highway  leading  from ,  on  a  level  stretch  of  the  road, 

about  four  hundred  yards  in  length.  And  as,  perhaps,  many 
of  my  readers  have  never  seen  anything  of  the  kind,  it  may 
not  be  uninteresting  to  learn  something  of  the  arrangement. 
About  two  hundred  yards  from  the  starting-point  were  two 
posts  set  into  the  ground  deep  enough  to  secure  steadiness, 
and  leaving  them  about  fourteen  feet  above-ground  and 
twenty  feet  apart.     From  the  tops  of  these  two  posts  was 


258  BLOOM     AXD     BRIER. 

stretched  a  very  strong  rope,  and  from  the  middle  of  this 
the  gander  himg  suspended  by  the  feet,  the  head  and  neck 
having  most  of  the  feathers  removed,  and  then  well  greased. 
This  completed  the  arrangement  so  far  as  the  gander  was 
to  play  a  part.  ]Men  were  then  placed  all  along  at  short 
intervals,  with  good  whips  in  their  hands,  from  the  start- 
ing-point to  the  goose-poles.  Judges  then  took  positions  at 
the  poles  at  either  end.  The  rider  was  then  started  at  the 
upper  poles,  at  the  words  "  Are  you  ready  ?  —  go  !  "  It 
now  became  the  business  of  every  whipper  to  strike  the 
horse  as  he  passed,  in  order  to  keep  him  at  the  top  of  his 
speed,  and  as  the  rider  rode  under  the  gander,  for  him  to 
make  an  effort  to  catch  the  head.  Between  the  well-greased 
condition  of  the  head  and  the  fowl  dodging  when  caught 
at,  it  was  difficult  either  to  get  or  to  keep  hold  of  it.  The 
duty  of  the  judges  at  the  poles  was  to  decide  on  foul  whip- 
ping or  any  other  unusual  circumstance ;  whipping  being 
considered  foul  if  done  anywhere  but  on  the  rear  parts 
of  the  horse. 

At  two  o'clock  precisely,  on  this  occasion,  the  sport  began. 

"All  ready  —  down  here!"  sung  out  Dick  Winn.  "Draw 
your  rider,  Brandon  —  dang  me !  " 

Dick  Winn,  though  associating  with  the  class  of  men  we 
here  find  him  with,  was  very  far  their  superior,  both  in 
intelligence  and  position,  and  was  truly  a  representative 
man  in  many  respects  as  regards  Southern  character.  He 
was  an  enthusiastic  politician,  and  as  well  known  as  any 
private  citizen  of  the  country;  with  education  he  Avould 
have  been  equal  to  most  civil  positions,  and  was  even  so 
almost  without  it.  His  opinions  were  forcible,  fearless,  and 
highly  respected  ;  his  observation  was  shrewd,  and  his  lan- 
guage, always  quaint,  was  either  caustic  and  direct,  or  ram- 
bling and  humorous,  as  occasion  called  for.  His  knowledge 
of  character  was  intuitively  correct.  His  industry  and  en- 
ergy gave  him  command  of  very  considerable  means,  and 


BLOOM    AND     BRIER.  259 

his  home  presented  all  the  advantages  of  great  ease  and 
abundance,  and  was  often  the  scene  of  convivial  entertain- 
ment for  his  friends.  He  loved  his  fun,  as  he  called  it, 
and  would  go  into  any  place  that  promised  to  furnish  it: 
having  that  almost  perfect  fearlessness  essential  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  a  frolic,  he  never  failed  to  secure  it,  regardless  of  all 
consequences.  His  face  was  manly  and  handsome,  his  person 
strong,  and  his  temper,  though  bold  and  defiant,  was  placable 
and  generous.  "While  he  could  be  serious,  earnest,  and  severe, 
he  was  yet  generally  in  a  pleasing  mood,  and  had  a  pleasant 
word  for  all.  These  qualities  made  him  a  fast  friend  to 
others,  and  others  to  him,  and  gave  him  the  position  of  a 
leader  in  his  neighborhood,  whenever  a  leader  was  wanted. 

"  Here 's  my  gander  spilin'  for  a  mate !  Send  on  your 
goose,  Brandon,  dang  it ! "  he  again  cried  out,  as  the  latter 
was  placing  the  names  in  a  hat. 

Jack  Gaulding's  was  the  first  drawn,  and  when  called 
for,  came  riding  up  on  his  horse  "  bareback,"  his  bridle 
wrapped  securely  round  his  wrist,  with  one  hand  free 
wherewith  to  catch  at  the  gander's  head. 

"Here  I  am  on  terry  finny,  and  ready  for  the  row,"  said 
Jack,  as  he  took  position. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  "  cried  out  Henry  Brandon. 

" Ready !  " 

"  Go ! " 

At  the  word  the  first  whipper  struck  his  horse,  and  away 
he  flew,  each  whipper  striking  him  as  he  passed.  It  was 
but  a  few  seconds  before  Jack  was  under  the  gander,  but 
missed  the  prize. 

"  All  right  —  a  fair  ride!  but  here  swings  my  gander,  live 
and  kicking  —  no,  fluttering.  Send  on  another  of  your 
Bossum  heels,  Henry ;  I  'm  on  expenses,  dang  it!" 

"Pedlar  Jim"  was  next  called  for,  and  rode  through 
with  no  better  success. 

And  thus  through  all  the  entries.     The  whole  sport  waa 


260  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

now  to  begin  again,  and  was  repeated  several  times  before 
any  one  had  secured  the  prize  —  with  various  accidents  to 
both  horses  and  riders,  which  indeed  seemed  to  furnish  a 
large  part  of  the  entertainment. 

In  this  manner  the  evening  had  passed  nearly  away, 
when  a  large  portion  of  the  company  left  for  their  own 
homes,  leaving  only  those  who  were  going  to  the  Ball. 


CHAPTER    XXXYIIL 

"  Here  are  we  met,  three  merry  boys, 
Three  merry  boys  I  trow  are  we." 

TWILIGHT  had  not  more  than  set  in,  when  the  young 
people  from  all  the  neighborhood  began  arriving  for 
the  ball,  and  by  the  time  it  was  starlight  the  house  was 
crowded.  A  fiddle,  tambourine,  and  triangle  were  soon  in 
full  blast,  and  the  cry  sung  out  of  "  Git  your  pardners !  " 
by  no  less  a  person  than  Dick  Winn,  whom  old  Manese 
had  requested  to  act  as  general  manager.  "  Dr.  Wilton 
and  Henry  Brandon  from  the  prairies  have  first  choice, 
gentlemen — by  reason  of  hospitality  ;  and  then  you  fellows 
from  the  hills  take  second."  This  last  regulation  was  of 
Dick's  o^vn  conceiving,  and  announced  in  his  own  peculiar 
manner,  but  assented  to  without  an  opposing  voice. 

Henry  now  introduced  Dr.  Wilton  to  May  Walters,  the 
sister  of  Xanny,  whom  Henry  Brandon  had  already  en- 
gaged as  his  partner. 

Nanny  and  May  Walters  were  twin  sisters,  and  were 
nearly  the  same  age  with  Henry  Brandon.  They  were  old 
acquaintances  of  his,  having  known  them  before  he  left 
for  college,  and  this  was  the  first  time  he  had  met  them 
since  his  return,  and  still  found  them  to  be  the  same  pic- 
tures of  rustic  beauty. 


BLOOM     AND     BKIER.  261 

All  classes  of  society  have  their  *'  belles,"  and  Nanny 
and  May  Walters  were  the  belles  of  the  circle  in  which 
they  moved  —  holding  that  enviable  position  in  virtue  of 
their  beauty,  intelligence,  and  industry. 

They  were  tall,  graceful,  and  well  develojDcd  in  their 
figures,  and  were  light  but  rich  brunettes  in  complexion ; 
their  eyes  were  dark,  lustrous,  and  instinct  with  life  and 
joyousness ;  their  full  suit  of  dark,  glossy  hair  most  su- 
perbly matched  their  eyes  and  complexion — which  being 
dressed  loosely,  gave  it  all  the  advantage  which  nature  had 
evidently  bestowed  —  but  being  fastened  securely,  gave  it 
all  the  tidiness  of  thorough  attention  and  dress. 

As  we  have  said,  these  two  girls  had  been  great  favorites 
with  Henry  Brandon,  in  the  dashing  wild  days  of  his  boy- 
hood ;  and  they  had  prepared  themselves  with  great  care, 
with  the  expectation  of  meeting  him  at  the  dance,  knowing 
that  he  had  been  invited,  and  supposing  that  he  would  of 
course  be  there,  if  not  greatly  changed  in  his  character. 
They  were  dressed  in  the  highest  style  of  those  fashions 
which  are  peculiar  to  that  class  of  girls,  and  kept  up  year 
after  year,  with  but  little  reference  to  the  changes  in  the 
fashionable  and  higher  circles  of  society ;  and  in  most  re- 
spects far  more  graceful  and  flowing,  than  those  which  fre- 
quently, not  only  embarrass  the  movements,  but  ridicu- 
lously disfigure  the  forms  of  young  girls  in  the  more  dis- 
tinguished coteries.  Among  the  former,  the  sesthetics  of  dress 
is  based  upon  its  adaptability  to  the  human  form  — nature 
is  their  only  guide — as  they  have  little  or  no  access  to 
those  circumstances  which  engender  morbidity;  and  too 
frequently,  not  only  vitiate  taste  in  this,  but  in  far  greater 
matters. 

A  large  "set"  was  now  out  on  the  floor.  The  dance 
was  an  old-fashioned  Scotch  reel,  and  as  Henry  and  Nanny 
led  off*,  Dick  AVinn,  who  as  we  have  said  was  master  of  the 
ceremonies,  spoke  out  loud  enough  for  every  one  to  hear: 


262  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

"  Come  down  to  it  manly,  Henry  Brandon ;  you  are 
among  your  friends,  and  dancing  on  your  same  old  punch- 
eon, with  the  nicest  gal,  too,  in  this  neck  of  woods.  Ain't 
he,  Nanny  ?  " 

Henry  answered  for  both,  by  replying  that  Xanny  was 
floating  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  and  that  he  was  doing 
his  handsomest. 

"  All  right  —  go  a-head  !  after  your  own  fashion  ;  but 
cut  and  come  again !  remember  that  hind-foot  foremost  is 
the  figure  —  ain't  it,  Nanny  ?" 

Henry  found  time  to  get  back  and  cross  to  Nanny,  for 
the  purpose  of  having  some  little  talk  with  her,  which  he 
began  by  saying :  "  Nanny,  I  had  never  expected  to  dance 
with  you  again  as  a  single  girl ;  but  here  you  are,  as  pretty 
and  fresh  as  ever,  and  I  dancing  with  you  too  ;  but  tell  me 
how  it  is  that  as  pretty  a  girl  as  you  has  never  married. 
Can't  capture  any  of  these  wild  boys  ? " 

The  color  seemed  to  leave  Nanny's  cheek  for  a  moment, 
as  she  said,  "  They  are  too  wild.  You  can't  keep  one  after 
you  catch  him." 

"Well,  there  is  some  mystery  about  it,  which  I  shall 
inquire  into.  When  I  came  here  to-night,  I  almost  ex- 
pected to  have  your  oldest  daughter  for  a  partner  ;  but  here 
you  are,  prettier  and  brighter  than  ever,  and  single  still." 

"Why,  sir,  I  am  not  as  old  as  you  are  —  have  you 
brought  a  son  old  enough  for  me,  or  for  such  a  daughter 
to  dance  with  ?  And  if  you  must  know,  maybe  I  will  tell 
you,  wdiy  I  did  not  get  married  before  this," 

"  Yes,  tell  me." 

"  Well,  it  was  just  because  I  wanted  to  see  you  once 
more,  dance  with  you  once  more,  and  talk  with  you  :  after 
this  I  am  ready.  Do  you  know  any  clear,  sensible,  indus- 
trious young  fellow,  that  would  be  likely  to  fall  in  love 
with  as  pretty  a  girl  as  I  ?  " 

"  Many  a  one.     I  take  all  such  chances  myself." 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  263 

"  Yes,  I  believe  you  do ;  but  if  I  tell  you  a  little  secret, 
will  you  ever  tell  it?  very  few  ever  even  suspected  it." 
"  No,  not  unless  you  give  me  permission." 
"Well  —  now  remember,  I  have  never  told  any  one  but 
;May  and  mother.  I  have  been  engaged  to  Robert  Miller 
there,  for  over  a  year  ;  but  he  has  got  to  be  so  wild,  and  got 
into  such  trouble,  that  I  had  to  break  it  up.  I  have  got 
afraid  of  him." 

"Really  afraid  of  him?" 

"  Yes,  really  afraid  of  him.     Now,  would  you  marry  a 
icoman  that  you  were  really  afraid  of?" 
"  No." 

"  Well,  I  can't  marry  a  man  that  I  am  afraid  of.  He  has 
frightened  every  bit  of  love  I  ever  had  for  him  away  from 
me.     I  don't  love  him,  and  I  'm  sorry  for  it." 

"  I  am  sorry  Bob  has  got  into  such  habits,  but  he  says 
he  intends  to  quit  them  after  this." 

«  Yes  —  I  know  ;  but  still  I  am  afraid  of  him.  I  can't 
•  risk  him.  But  never  mind,  that  is  all  over  with.  I  don't 
love  him.  Now,  I  want  to  know  why  you  did  not  speak 
to  me  last  f^ill,  up  at  Gregory's  Spring,  when  your  uncle 
epoke  there.  I  Went  there  almost  entirely  just  to  see  you, 
and  you  passed  right  close  by  me,  and  did  not  speak.  I 
never  felt  so  mortified  in  all  my  life,  and  I  have  been  mad 
with  you  a  little  bit  ever  since." 

"  On  my  honor  I  never  saw  you  ;  were  you  really  there, 
Nanny?" 

"  I  was,  indeed ;  I  wanted  to  hear  Mr.  Brandon  speak, 
because  you  know  we  are  all  Whigs  down  here— just  as 
everybody  else  did ;  and  then  I  had  heard  you  had  come 
back,  and  just  thought  I  would  be  so  glad  to  see  you,  too, 
and  to  see  if  you  were  so  handsome  and  pleasant  as  you 
used  to  be ;  but,  oh !  how  you  cut  me.  I  tried  to  forgive 
you  though  ;  for  you  had  two  such  beautiful  young  girls 


264  BLOOM    AND     BRIER. 

with  you,  that  I  knew  poor  Kanny  Walters  had  no  busi- 
ness even  looking  that  way." 

"  Poor  Nanny  Walters,  indeed  !  You  are  one  of  the 
prettiest  girls  I  ever  saw,  and  you  know  I  think  so;  and 
if  I  had  seen  you,  I  should  have  left  a  queen  to  speak  to 
you,  and  I  reckon  would  have  done  just  what  I  am  going 
to  do  now,"  and  as  he  said  this,  bent  down  and  kissed  the 
rosy  lips  of  the  lovely  country  girl. 

It  was  done  so  suddenly  that  there  was  no  time  for  re- 
sistance on  her  part,  even  if  she  would  have  made  any ;  as 
it  was,  however,  she  only  slapped  him  coquettishly  on  the 
face,  but  blushed  deeply  when  she  discovered  that  Robert 
Miller,  her  old  beau,  had  seen  it.  Henry  "Brandon  had 
not  intended  to  be  seen,  and  thought  from  the  intentness 
with  which  the  dancers  were  engaged  that  he  would  not ; 
but  poor  Miller  had  scarcely  taken  his  5yes  off  of  her  from 
the  time  he  entered  the  house,  and  with  any  one  else  might 
have  made  it  the  cause  of  some  words ;  as  it  was,  he  only 
said :  "  Ah !  Henry,  at  your  old  tricks," 

"  Yes,  Bob  ;  and  now  that  I  have  set  you  the  example,  it 
is  your  own  fault  if  you  do  not  follow  it." 

"  I  '11  do  it,  Henry,  if  I  die  for  it." 

At  the  time,  he  was  dancing  with  little  Betty  Lane,  a 
pretty  little  blue-eyed  lass  of  eighteen  summers,  who,  when 
her  attention  was  directed  to  it,  caught  a  glimpse  of  Henry 
Brandon  as  he  kissed  Xanny  Walters ;  and  was  enjoying 
the  confusion  of  Nanny,  when  Miller  walked  round,  and 
without  her  even  suspecting  his  purpose,  found  herself  in 
the  same  category. 

"  Come,  gentlemen ;  I  bar  all  sich  amusements,  unless 
they  become  gineral,"  said  Jack  Gaulding,  who  had  some 
little  claim  in  regard  to  Betty  Lane. 

"  Oh  !"  said  Betty,  "  Mr.  Miller,  I  had  no  idea  that  any- 
body would  do  such  a  thing  but  Mr.  Brandon." 

"Oh!  you  didn't,  hey!"  said  Dick  Winn,  in  a  great 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  265 

laugh.  "^lyturn  next,  dang  it!"  and  kissed  Samantliy 
Roberta. 

The  dance  now  became  so  confused,  that  Dick  gave 
orders  for  them  all  to  scat  their  partners  until  the  excite- 
ment was  over,  and  kiss  them  if  they  could,  just  to  get  even. 
The  "set"  was  soon  broken  up  in  a  sort  of  half  romp,  the 
young  beaux  laughing  heartily  at  the  girls,  for  taking  to  the 
new  fashion  so  easily. 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Brandon,  the  young  men  have  all  been  so 
well-behaved  for  a  long  time  ;  but  now,  you  have  spoiled  it 
all." 

"  Yes ;  and  not  three  of  you  have  been  married  since  I 
was  here,  and  I  am  going  to  put  you  all  in  motion." 

"  Are  you  going  to  set  the  example  in  that,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  I  can  ; "  and  for  the  first  time  that  night  or 
day,  the  sweet  fade  of  Laura  Brandon  appeared  before  him. 
"  What  would  she  say,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "  if  she 
could  only  have  seen  me  to-day,  and  to-night.  Hut  I  can't 
help  it  — right  or  wrong,  I'll  trust  to  luck ;  "  and  before  he 
had  scarcely  finished  the  thoughts,  he  dashed  along  with 
Nanny  Walters  in  the  dance  which  had  again  been  or- 
ganized. 

"  I  thought  that  was  your  idea,  when  I  saw  you  with 
those  pretty  girls  last  fall,  and  I  will  let  them  know  how 
you  behave  yourself  when  you  get  down  here,  if  you  dis- 
turb me  again — indeed  I  will." 

"You  will,"  said  he,  in  a  sort  of  momentary  distraction. 

"Yes,  I  will." 

"Why,  what  do  I  misbehave  in,  Nanny?" 

"  Well,  you  tell  us  how  pretty  we  are,  and  how  you  ad- 
mire us,  and  turn  all  of  our  heads  by  flattering  us." 

"  xVnd  by  kissiiig  you  all." 

"  Yes,"  added  she,  "  and  by  kissing  us  too,  whenever  you 
catch  a  chance." 

"  That  would  make  me  more  popular,  Xanny,  and  you 


266  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

had  better  not  let  that  get  out  if  you  ever  wish  to  see  me 
again  as  a  single  man,  for  some  girl  would  marry  me  in 
less  than  a  month — vi  et  armis,  nolens  volens.'* 

"  Vi  et,  what?"  asked  she,  laughing. 

"Just  as  I  kissed  you  to-night  —  and  just  as  I  will  do 
again." 

"  Yes,  and  I  will  tell  how  you  talk  about  them,  too ! " 

"  Yes,  and  I  will  tell  how  you  let  me  kiss  you  twice  in 
one  evening ! "  And,  while  unobserved  by  any  others, 
quickly  placed  his  arm  around  her  neck,  and  gave  her  an- 
other kiss. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Brandon  !  I  have  a  great  notion  to  leave  here, 
and  go  straight  home  to  mother." 

"  I  would  follow  you  if  you  did,  and  contradict  every 
word  you  spoke." 

"  "Would  you  dare  dispute  ray  word?"  said  she,  laughing. 

"  Indeed,  I  would  !  " 

"  I  believe  you  would.  Going  to  college,  I  am  afraid, 
has  ruined  you ;  but  in  earnest,  now,  you  must  not  do  that 
again ;  I  would  not  mind  your  impudence  at  home,  but 
these  people  v»ill  speak  of  it." 

"  Oh  !  no  one  saw  me,  then." 

"  No,  but  they  might  have.  I  will  not  get  mad  about 
that  if  you  will  behave  yourself  for  the  rest  of  the  evening." 

"  Very  good,  provided  you  will-  dance  every  other  set 
with  me  during  the  evening." 

"  Yes,  I  will  agree  to  that,  too ;  but  I  am  afraid  it  will 
make  my  old  friend  Robert  Miller  very  jealous  —  you 
know  men  are  mighty  jealous  things." 

"Ah,  ha!  you  have  not  given  Bob  up,  then?" 

"  Yes,  he  is  nothing  to  me,  more  than  you  are,  but  then 
—  you  know  —  I  hate  to  hurt  him." 

"  Yes.  Well,  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  ;  but  don't  you 
look  too  pretty  at  me." 

"No." 


BLOOM     AM)     BIMIOR.  2G7 

The  evening  now  passed  gayly  along  with  every  one, 
until  a  late  hour,  with  the  exception  of  our  friend  Dick 
Winn,  who  had  his  pleasure  spoiled  by  a  very  unexpected 
incident  —  the  nature  of  which  we  will  relate  in  another 
chapter. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

"  Kings  may  be  blest,  but  Tarn  was  gloriuud, 
O'er  all  the  ills  of  life  victorious." 

rpiIKRE  was  at  this  time,  and  had  been  for  several  weeks, 
X  a  distant  female  relative  on  a  visit  to  old  Manese,  who 
rejoiced  in  the  name  of  Miss  Amelia  Simpkins. 

IMiss  Amelia  was  not  wanting  in  good  looks,  but  was 
hard  of  hearing,  and  had  passed  those  years  whereat  girls 
are  considered  young.  At  her  own  proper  home  she  was 
in  circumstances  sufficient  unto  her  support,  but  having 
unfortunately  passed  the  years  of  girlhood  without  the  in''- 
cident  of  matrimony  intervening,  she  had  left  home  really 
as  an  adventurer  in  that  great  cause,  but  ostensibly  as  a 
teacher,  and  had  learned  the  happy  art  of  living  principally 
by  visiting.  Miss  Amelia  had  been  jokingly  informed  by 
some  girls  who  had  found  out  the  leading  object  of  her  life, 
that  our  old  friend  Dick  Winn  was  a  well-to-do  old  bach- 
elor, who  lived  but  a  mile  or  two  distant,  and  that  he  had 
expressed  a  desire  to  become  acquainted  with  her.  After 
this  information  had  been  given  her,  she  had  made  many 
unsuccessful  efforts  to  get  an  introduction  to  him,  but  had 
failed  — every  girl  finding  some  excuse  for  not  gratifying 
her ;  but  she,  like  all  old  girls  who  have  not  clearly  crossed 
the  matrimonial  Rubicon,  had  cultivated  her  nuptial  hopes 
up  to  a  quicker  sensibility,  as  the  time  for  their  gratifica- 


268  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

tion  seemed  pa:5riing  away,  and  they  had  now  reached  a 
sharp  climax  in  regard  to  Mr.  Kichard  Winn,  the  sup- 
posed well-to-do  old  bachelor. 

Dick's  happy  face  had,  indeed,  quite  naturally  led  her  to 
believe  that  he  was  a  bachelor,  and  she  allowed  her  matri- 
monial designs  to  become  enlisted  in  his  behalf.  At  the 
particular  time  seeing  him  sitting  apart  from  every  one, 
and  not  engaged  in  the  dance,  she  could  restrain  these  feel- 
ings no  longer,  but  stepping  up  to  him  said  : 

"  Mr.  Winn,  I  believe." 

"  You  are  right,  madam,  W^inn  is  my  name." 

"  My  name,  sir,  is  Amelia  Simpkins.  I  see,  Mr.  Winn, 
that  you  have  not  succeeded  in  getting  a  partner  ;  will  you 
excuse  the  boldness  of  offering  myself,  sir  ? " 

Dick  knowing  nothing  of  who  she  was,  and  while  think- 
ing it  a  very  unusual  method  of  getting  into  a  dance, 
gallantry  forbade  his  refusing  to  accept  —  and  not  being 
aware  of  the  defect  in  her  hearing,  replied  in  his  usual  tone 
and  manner : 

"Ah,  yes,  Miss  Amelia  Simpkins;  but  you  are  mistaken 
about  the  partner.  I  will,  however — yes,  madam,  I  will 
dance  —  dang  it,  yes." 

A  general  titter  went  round  as  Dick  came  up  with  his 
partner  to  join  the  set,  w^hen  he  saw  at  once  that  he  had 
been  victimized  in  some  manner,  but  allowed  it  to  worry 
him  no  further  than  to  cause  him  to  ejaculate  some  three 
or  four  times,  as  if  soliloquizing — "dang  it." 

The  dance  at  length  ended,  when  Dick  joyfully  led  her 
to  a  chair,  which  she  politely  declined,  expressing  a  prefer- 
ence for  walking  around  the  room. 

Dick  now  found  himself  the  object  of  all  observation,  and 
the  subject  of  the  suppressed  conversation  of  every  one. 
He  yet  bore  his  sufferings  manfully  by  the  assistance  of  an 
occasional  ejaculation  of  his  favorite  dang  it 

"  You  are  not  married,  I  believe,  Mr.  Winn  ?  " 


BI.OOJI     AND     BRIER.  2G9 

"  You  miss  it  most  damnuhly,  madam  ;  I  am  very  con- 
siderably into  that  business." 

"  I  supposed  not.  You  have  not  the  serious  fiice  which 
married  gentlemen  usually  wear ;  "  saying  this  with  a  faint 
smile  of  facetiousness. 

"  The  devil  you  say,  madam.  Does  a  married  man  have 
to  look  serious  forever,  madam  ?  dang  it !  But  perhaps  I 
look  so  happy  because  my  old  wife  is  not  here.  Damn  it ! 
I  have  got  dang  nigh  a  dozen  chaps  of  one  sort  and  an- 
other at  my  house,  madam." 

"So  I  suppose  ;  single  persons  generally  love  children." 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  as  to  that,  but  I  have  wellnigh  a 
dozen,  I  say,  of  my  own  that  I  can  remember.  Dang 
it !  not  single  a  great  deaJ,  that  I  can  see." 

"Yes,  I  have  always  loved  children,  though  I  have  none 
of  my  own.  The  maternal  feeling  always  reigns  para- 
mount in  a  woman's  breast." 

"  Perhaps  so,  madam  ;  but  dang  it,  you  don't  appear  to 
understand  me." 

"  Yes!  I  was  struck  with  your  appearance  from  the  first 
moment  I  saw  you.  People  are  often  drawn  to  each  other 
from  a  certain  sort  of  affinity,  even  when  they  have  never 
met  before." 

"So  I  would  suppose;  but  as  I  never  dive  very  deep  into 
such  matters,  can't  say.  Damn  me!  What  in  the  hell 
did  she  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.     I  feel  flattered  by  your  remarks." 

"Oh,  not  so,  madam!  Damn  it!  I  have  made  no  par- 
ticular remarks." 

"  Certainly,  sir ;  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  you  in  whatever 
you  have  to  say." 

"The  very  hell  you  will!  I  think,  madam,  we  don't 
hear  each  other.     Will  you  have  a  seat?     Dang  it !  " 

Dick  had  now  discovered  that  Miss  Amelia  was  hard  of  . 
hearing,  and,  rushing  to  a  seat,  rather  compelled  her  to  take 
23* 


270  BLOOM    AND    BKIEK. 

it,  and  with  equal  precipitation  rushed  into  the  crowd,  who 
had  now  got  into  convulsions  of  laughter,  having  overheard 
some  portions  of  the  conversation.  Dick  joined  in  the 
laugh,  and  was  very  anxious  to  find  out  which  girl  it  was, 
who  had  "  sicked  "  Miss  Amelia  upon  him,  as  he  said. 

Calling  Henry  Brandon  to  him,  he  said : 

"  Good-by,  Henry,  I  must  leave  you,  or  be  married  to 
another  wife  in  thirty  minutes,  and  off  for  the  Mormons 
by  morning.     Hal  ha!  ha!  I  will  —  dang  it!" 

At  this  moment  Dick  seeing  his  new  admirer  rise  from 
the  seat  in  which  he  had  placed  her,  and  appearing  to  come 
somewhat  towards  him,  dashed  out  of  the  hou^e,  saying  as 
he  went :  "  Ko,  not  any.  Dang  it !  "  and  was  followed  by 
quite  a  number  who  knew  the  joke,  with  roars  of  laughter. 

After  remaining  in  one  of  the  out-houses  forabouthalf 
an  hour,  he  ventured  back  to  the  dancing-room,  and  see- 
ing Henry  Brandon,  proposed  to  find  the  kitchen,  and  if 
possible,  to  get  something  to  eat  —  and  a  drink. 

"Why,  Winn,  I  went  there  w^ith  you  once  to-night, 
when  you  got  something,  and  supper  will  be  ready  di- 
rectly." 

"I  say  supper.  Dang  it!  It's  nearly  midnight  now, 
and  I  've  not  heard  a  word  of  supper." 

In  this  time  not  seeing  Miss  Amelia  Simpkins,  he  had 
the  boldness  to  enter  the  house ;  but  Miss  Amelia's  eyes 
were  already  on  the  watch  for  him,  and  as  he  said :  "I  say, 
got  something  —  three  eggs  —  and  one  of  them  not  the 
best,"  Miss  Amelia  caught  a  glimpse  of  him,  and  moved 
directly  towards  him,  when  Dick  again  rushed  out,  say- 
ing as  he  left  the  house:  "Hell  and  pistareens!  Three 
eggs,  and  one  of  them  not  good,  to  say  the  least,  is  not 
enough  for  any  well  man!  Dang  it! — with  a  new  sweet- 
heart !     Damn  me !  " 

The  night  was  thus  passed  off  with  that  joyous  hilarity 
peculiar  to  the  humbler  classes  of  the  South,  which  must 


BI.OOM    AND    BIIIEJI.  271 

be  seen  to  be  appreciated,  when  the  ahirni  ^Yas  given  that 
the  house  was  surrounded  by  armed  men. 

The  truth  was,  that  the  sheriff',  liaving  heard  tliat  ^lanese 
was  that  day  to  give  a  gander-pulling  and  a  ball,  and 
that  Miller  was  to  be  there,  had  come  with  a  company  of 
men,  and  had  so  stationed  them  that  he  could  easily,  as  he 
thought,  take  Miller  after  the  dance  was  over  —  while  get- 
ting their  horses.  The  plan  might  have  succeeded  had  it 
not  been  discovered. 

Miller  and  his  friends  quickly  gathered  their  arms,  and 
left  the  house  in  a  body.  They  had  not  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing their  horses,  however,  before  they  were  hailed,  and 
commanded  to  stop,  to  which  they  replied  by  a  volley  from 
their  pistols  in  the  direction  of  the  voices.  The  firing  was 
returned,  and  followed  up  from  each  side  by  repeated  dis- 
charges. This  being  rather  more  than  either  party  had 
expected,  both  retreated.  Miller's  men  were  soon  mounted, 
and  as  they  left,  Miller,  himself,  cried  out:  "Farewell, 
friends!  fi^rewell,  Henry  Brandon!  farewell,  Xanny!"  and 
after  that  night  was  never  known  to  be  in  the  State. 

After  the  firing  had  begun,  the  whole  company  left  the 
house  in  the  greatest  confusion.  The  girls,  being  terribly 
frightened,  and  screaming  for  protection,  seized  on  the  first 
man  who  fell  in  their  way.  Dr.  Wilton  and  Henry  Bran- 
don were,  at  the  time,  dancing  with  May  and  Nanny 
Walters.  In  an  instant,  the  girls  seized  them  by  the  arm, 
and  begged  to  be  taken  home,  and  just  as  they  left  the 
door,  a  flying  shot  passed  through  the  coat  sleeve  of  Henry 
Brandon,  slightly  wounding  him.  He  then  called  for 
"  Sam  "  to  come  up  with  the  horses.  The  latter  answered 
some  distance  off,  and  told  him  to  "come  to  me,  Mass 
Henry,  the  bosses  wount  go  a  step  dat  way." 

"Can't  you  come  up  a  little,  man? "  asked  Henry,  in  a 
loud,  impatient  voice. 

"  No,  sir.     De  bosses,  I  say,  wount  budge  a  feet  dat  way." 


272  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"You  are  a  lying  coward,  sir;  I  know  they  will." 

"No,  sir;  I  swar  dey  wount  move  dat  way  —  an  you 
ought  to  know  it,  Mass  Henry." 

Brandon  saw  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  him  to  come 
up,  and  said  to  the  Doctor  that  they  would  have  to  go  there. 

Witli  the  two  terror-stricken  girls  still  holding  on  to 
them,  they  went  in  search  of  "  Sam  "  and  the  horses,  and 
found  him  very  securely  situated  between  and  behind  a 
clump  of  large  oaks  about  a  hundred  yards  distant,  whose 
shade  made  it  perfectly  dark.  After  wrapping  up  the  girls 
in  a  pair  of  blankets  which  "  Sam  "  had  brought  for  his 
own  accommodation,  they  succeeded  in  getting  mounted  by 
the  assistance  of  "  Sam,"  who  now  made  himself  very  use- 
fiil,  and  were  not  long  in  reaching  old  Mrs.  Walters'  resi- 
dence. The  old  lady  was  still  sitting  up  waiting  for  her 
daughters,  by  a  large  fire.  The  story  was  soon  told,  when 
the  good  old  woman  had  them  a  cup  of  hot  coffee,  and 
something  to  eat.  The  girls  had  now  recovered  from  their 
fright,  and  seemed  well  pleased  with  the  adventure  —  par- 
ticularly since  they  had  secured  two  such  handsome  pro- 
tectors. 

"  Doctor,"  said  Henry  Brandon,  "  did  you  see  what  be- 
came of  Dick  Winn  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  just  as  we  left  the  house  I  saw  him  going  in." 

"Ah !  you  need  not  be  troubled  about  Mr.  Winn,  he  will 
take  care  of  himself,"  said  old  Mrs.  Walters.  "  This  is  not 
the  first  scrape  he  was  ever  in,  and  came  out  of  safe." 

"  No,  I  know  not ;  but  I  should  like  to  have  seen  Miss 
Simpkins  meet  him,  about  the  time  they  were  all  rushing 
out  of  the  house." 

"  She  did  appear  to  be  flying  about  there,  as  if  she  was 
crazy,  and  I  expect  was  really  looking  for  him,"  answered 
May  Walters  ;  "  but  then  I  can't  laugh,  for  I  was  as  badly 
frightened  as  she  was." 

Henry  now  suggested  that  it  was  getting  quite  late,  and 


BLOOM     AXD     BKIER.  2(6 

they  had  all  better  go  to  bed.  Naimy  then  showed  him  a 
room,  and  as  he  left,  bid  them  all  good-by,  as  he  would  leave 
very  early  in  the  morning. 

In  the  meanwhile  "Sam"  had  succeeded  in  rousing  a 
negro  boy,  and  getting  him  to  assist  in  putting  away  the 
horses,  had  got  back  to  the  kitchen,  when,  as  some  com- 
pensation to  the  old  cook  for  his  supper,  he  was  giving 
a  most  wonderful  and  exaggerated  account  of  the  affair, 
and  the  particular  part  he  had  played  in  it.  He  had  al- 
ready finished  his  meal,  and  was  ready  for  his  nap,  when 
he  capped  the  climax  of  his  story,  by  saying:  "And  I 
'specks  dar  is  twenty  men  lyin'  about  dead  in  dem  woods 
dis  minit," 

"Delaw!" 

"  Yes ;  but  dis  nigger  ain't  one  of  'em." 

"  I  wonder." 

"  No ;  he  ain't  dat,"  and  dropped  off  to  sleep. 

When  Henry  pulled  off  his  coat.  Dr.  Wilton  looked  at 
the  wound  on  his  arm,  and  putting  a  piece  of  sticking 
plaster  upon  it,  pronounced  it  slight,  saying  it  would  get 
well  by  first  intention. 

"  By  first  or  second,  it  stings  like  the  devil." 

Dick  Winn  had  indeed  entered  the  house,  just  after  the 
Doctor  and  Henry  Brandon  had  left  it  with  the  Walters 
girls,  and  found  that  every  member  of  the  family  as  well  as 
the  company  had  left,  save  the  veritable  Miss  Amelia  Simp- 
kins,  who  had  failed  to  secure  a  protector,  and  seemed  in 
great  terror.  The  moment  Winn  stepped  inside  the  door, 
she  flew  to  his  arms  and  asked  his  protection. 

"  Well,  yes,  dang  it ;  Miss  Simpkins,  or  whatever  your 
name  is,  I  will  certainly  protect  you  ;  but  damn  me,  madam, 
if  I  know  what  to  do  with  you." 

Without  appearing  to  hear  him,  but  giving  a  very  apt 
answer,  she  said : 


274  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

"  Oh !  my  dear  Mr.  AVinn,  do  carry  me  to  your  own 
peaceful  home,  away  from  this  dreadful  place." 

"  Yes,  dang  dreadful  place ;  but,  Bustamente  and  the 
devil !  my  home  might  not  be  so  peaceful,  if  I  take  you 
there !     Xo,  not  much  —  damn  me !  " 

But  being  unable  to  make  her  comprehend  him,  she 
still  clung  to  him. 

"  Very  well  —  dang  it !  I  must  do  something  with  you, 
so  come  on  —  damn  me !  " 

With  these  words  he  took  her  to  where  his  horse  was  tied, 
and  getting  her  up  behind  him,  left  in  the  direction  of  his 
own  home  at  half  speed.  About  a  mile  and  half  from 
there,  lived  one  of  the  young  girls  whom  he  had  suspected 
of  getting  him  into  the  scrape ;  and  as  he  came  up  to  the 
gate,  saw  a  bright  light  in  one  of  the  rooms,  and  giving 
her  to  understand  that  this  was  his  home,  assisted  her  down, 
and  motioned  her  to  the  house.  Xo  sooner  did  he  see  her 
safe  at  the  door,  than  he  said :  "  Now,  dang  you.  Miss 
Smarty  !  suppose  you  take  her  for  a  while.  Come,  'Soap- 
tail,'  "  speaking  to  his  horse,  "  let  us  get  away  from  this 
'dreadful  place,'  as  our  new  sweetheart  would  say,"  and 
rode  off  at  full  speed.  After  getting  far  enough  to  be  out 
of  danger,  he  drew  the  horse  up,  and  began  soliloquizing. 
"Ain't  this  hell?  —  gander -pulling,  hall,  had  eggs,  Miss 
Elmina  Simpkins  —  dang  —  shot  at  —  bursted  up  gener- 
ally !  but  damn  me.  Miss  — who?  —  Jinkins!  the  devil 
and  gourd  fiddles ! "  and  at  the  thought  of  Miss  Simpkins 
started  "  Soaptail "  at  full  speed  again,  and  reached  home 
just  as  day  peeped  from  the  east. 

AVe  will  now  bid  farewell  to  our  old  friend  Dick  Winn, 
knowing  that  he  will  make  fair  weather,  as  to  his  where- 
abouts and  doings,  even  if  by  telling  many  truly  improbable 
stories. 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  275 

CHAPTER   XL. 

"  lie  is  from  the  South,  sir." 

VERY  early  next  morning  "  Sam  Brandon  "  had  the 
horses  ready  at  old  IMrs.  Walters'  gate,  and  only 
waited  for  his  young  master  and  the  Doctor,  who  were  not 
long  in  getting  ready.  As  they  rode  along,  the  various 
incidents  of  the  previous  day  and  night  were  talked  and 
laughed  over,  and  no  regrets  were  expressed  at  the  manner 
of  their  conclusion. 

Brandon  at  length  said,  that  he  cared  for  nothing  that 
happened,  but  getting  shot  at  the  "  damned  place,"  as  he 
did  not  know  how  to  get  round  telling  his  mother  and 
Violet,  and  very  soon  it  would  be  the  general  neighborhood 
talk. 

"  No,"  said  the  Doctor ;  "  that  has  got  us  into  a  close 
place,  and  I  imagine  about  the  best  way  to  do  is  to  *  own 
up,*  and  laugh  over  it." 

"  Yes ;  I  could  manage  it  all  very  well,  if  it  were  not 
for  my  very  dignified  uncle,  and  very  correct  aunt,  Mrs. 
Robert  Brandon.  They  will  talk  over  it  as  seriously  as  if 
I  had  sinned  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  in  addition  to  all 
human  morality." 

"  Well,  Brandon,  I  see  your  next  trouble,  and  should 
like  to  help  you  out  of  it,  but  my  assistance  would  only  help 
to  sink  you  deeper,"  said  the  Doctor,  laughing. 

"  Yes ;  you  will  have  your  hands  full  to  take  care  of 
yourself.  But  I  feel  very  w^ell  paid,  let  the  matter  go  as 
it  will.  The  social  aspect  which  the  whole  thing  presented, 
very  correctly  indicates  the  substratum  of  Southern  char- 
acter, and  sustains  it  equally  in  the  lower  and  higher 
circles.     Beside  many  lighter  attributes,  there  is  a  feeling 


276  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

and  a  habit  of  personal  resentment  among  Southern  people, 
which  is  not  seen  at  the  North,  An  insult  here  is  dealt 
with  at  the  moment,  and  by  the  parties  to  it,  which  has  the 
effect  of  adding  to  the  courtesy  of  intercourse,  by  forcing 
every  one  to  a  sense  of  personal  responsibility.  This 
gives  dignity  and  bearing  to  the  individual.  The  law  is 
never  called  in  to  uphold  a  man's  honor,  the  walking-stick 
or  the  bullet  settles  the  trouble.  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
laying  the  foundation  for  a  fortune  on  the  damages  given 
for  defamation  of  character.  Wounded  honor  —  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest — dies  in  its  own  defence,  kills  the 
offender,  or  gets  satisfaction.  This  is  a  proud  heritage  to 
the  son,  and  he  walks  through  life  with  a  lofty  conscious- 
ness of  one  who  has  inherited  an  untarnished  crest,  and  so 
intends  to  transmit  it.  Now,  these  fellows  that  were  about 
to  fight  yesterday,"  said  Henry,  had  no  heart-burnings,  no 
regrets,  no  mortifications,  for  the  insulting  reflections  that 
each  conceived,  the  other  thought,  the  other  wished  to 
pass,  because  they  were  the  occasion  of  the  other  exhibiting 
his  fearlessness.  This,  at  once,  half  destroyed  the  difiiculty, 
while  the  other  half  was  perfectly  subject  to  control ;  and 
in  ten  minutes,  men,  who  had  been  willing  to  cut  each  others' 
throats,  were  as  good  friends  as  ever.  Just  the  opposite 
to  this  is  the  case  at  the  North ;  there,  the  law  and  jury- 
box  settles  everything  —  the  great  umpire  in  every  diffi- 
culty. This  breeds  contention  and  cowardice,  and  makes 
them  a  nation,  if  I  may  so  speak,  of  scandalizers.  To 
call  a  man  a  *  damned  scoundrel '  at  the  South,  is  to  get 
your  brains  shot  out  —  at  the  North  it  is  worth  a  thou- 
sand dollars.  The  slander^ of  a  w4fe  or  daughter  buys  a 
farm,  and  therefore  is  rather  desired  than  not.  But  damn  it! 
this  cold  wind  makes  my  arm  sting.  Let 's  ride  faster,  and 
get  out  of  it." 

They  then  mended  their  gait  to  a  brisk  gallop,  and  were 
not  long  in   reaching  St.  Clary's  Church,  their  point  of 


E  I.  O  O  M     A  N  D     B  R  r  E  U  .  2  /  / 

separation,  and  promising  to  meet  again  very  soon,  the  two 
young  friends  bid  "good  morning." 

Henry  had  not  gone  a  great  way,  before  "  Sam  Brandon," 
who  had  had  no  opportunity  of  speaking  to  his  young 
master  before,  in  regard  to  the  affairs  of  the  previous  day, 
said: 

"  And  that  was  your  gander-pullin\  Mass  Henry?" 

"Yes  ;  how  did  you  like  it?" 

"Mighty  well;  but  that  shootin' like  to  a  bin  a  bad 
scrape." 

"  Yes ;  and  you  played  coward  too,  Sam." 

"  No,  sir ;  I  got  out  the  way,  'cause  the  bosses  wouldn* 
Stan',  and  then  I  had  no  pistil,  nor  didn'  see  nobody  to 
shoot,  if  I  did,  an  you  got  away  yo'self,  ^lass  Henry." 

"  So  I  did,  Sara  ;  but  don't  you  tell  anything  about  it,  and 
besides,  one  of  those  flying  shots  hit  me." 

"Dar  now!  I  was  feared  you  would  get  hit;  but  you 
didn'  git  hurt  much,  did  you.  Mass  Henry  ? " 

"Oh,  no;  just  scratched  on  the  arm." 

"  I  'm  glad  of  that ;  and  as  for  my  tellin'  anything  'bout 
your  scrapes  —  no,  sir;  nary  time.  I  never  tells  our 
secrets." 

They  soon  reached  home,  where  Sara  got  a  subaltern  to 
take  his  horses,  while  he  went  directly  to  Henry's  room, 
and  soon  had  a  fme  fire;  and  when  breakfast  was  an- 
nounced, Henry  went  to  the  dining-room,  looking  as  fresh 
and  gay  as  though  nothing  unusual  had  happened. 
24 


278  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

"  "Well,  thou  wilt  be  horribly  chid  to-morrow.  ...  If  thou  love  me, 
practise  an  answer." 

niHE  greetings  of  his  mother  and  sister  were  particularly 
JL  pleasant,  as  they  met  Henry  in  the  breakfast-room, 
for  the  reason  that  his  presence  was  unexpected.  In  the 
course  of  conversation,  Mrs.  Brandon  remarked  to  her  son, 
that  as  he  was  sufficiently  near  to  reach  home  so  early,  he 
might  have  given  them  the  pleasure  of  his  company  the 
over-night. 

"Yes,  madam,  I  could  have  done  so ;  but  it  was  so  veiy 
cold  that  I  deferred  it  till  this  morning." 

"Where  did  you  stay,  brother  ?"  asked  Violet. 

"At  my  old  friend,  Mrs.  Walters'." 

"  And  have  you  come  from  there  this  morning  ?  "  she 
asked  with  surprise. 

"  I  certainly  have ;  why,  is  it  so  great  a  feat  as  to  cause 
astonishment?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,  both.  I  should  consider  myself  entitled  to 
immortal  honors.  You  must  have  come  with  the  swiftness 
of  a  winged  Mercury,  and  so  cold  too." 

"  Yes  it  was  very  cold,  and  we  did  ride  fast.." 

"  Your  old  friends  could  not  have  made  you  welcome,  or 
you  certainly  would  not  have  left  at  so  unreasonable  an 
hour." 

"  Yes,  I  received  a  very  warm  welcome ;  that  class  of 
people  always  welcome  their  friends.  'T  is  your  wealthy 
people  who  know  how  to  meet  you  coldly,  and  while  affect- 
ing hospitality,  virtually  ask  you  to  leave." 

"  Was  it  the  mother  of  the  pretty  twin  sisters  that  you 
used  to  talk  so  glov/ingly  of,  when  you  were  a  boy  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  the  same." 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  279 

"  Are  the  giils  single  yet,  and  as  pretty?" 

"Yes;  both." 

"  "We  are  to  suppose,  then,  that  they  were  the  attraction  ?  " 

"  No  ;  not  so  much  the  attraction  as  the  cause." 

"  Exphiin  your  distinction." 

"I  will,  some  Monday  morning  —  this  is  Sunday." 

"Very  good  ;  well,  did  you  wind  up  with  a  dance?" 

"  Oh  !  quite  a  frolic." 

"  Had  they  expected  you  ?  " 

"  I  believe  they  had." 

"Well,  I  will  ask  no  more  questions,  but  this  one,  as  I 
see  you  begin  to  think  me  too  inquisitiye.  Did  any  one  go 
with  you  from  this  neighborhood?" 

"  Why  ?  do  you  swiped  Hunter  f  " 

"  No,  no." 

"  Dr.  Wilton  was  with  me,  sister." 

"  Then,  I  suppose  you  initiated  him  into  the  Elysian 
merriments  of  *  Hill  life  ? '  Well,  I  am  glad  you  enjoyed 
yourself,  and  glad  you  are  back ;  but  you  would  have  en- 
joyed the  day  at  the  church  with  us  yesterday.  Nearly  all 
the  ladies  of  the  neighborhood  were  there  assisting  us  to 
decorate  it  for  Christmas  Day,  and  several  gentlemen. 
Uncle  Robert  among  the  number  of  the  latter,  and  coutsiii 
Laura  with  him,  of  course." 

"  Was  Lucy  there  also  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes;  I  only  mention  cousin  Laura,  as  you  appear 
to  think  so  much  of  her." 

"  I  am  sorry  then  I  could  not  be  at  both  places,  but  will 
go  with  you  to-day,  if  you  will  ask  me." 

"  Oh  I  we  will  take  the  greatest  pleasure  in  having  you 
ride  with  us ;  and  now  that  you  have  half  proposed  it,  I 
shall  insist  upon  it." 

At  the  usual  hour,  Essex  had  the  carriage  at  the  door, 
and  Henry,  indeed,  rode  with  them  to  church.  A  part  of 
the  congregation  were  already  there  when  Mrs.  Brandon's 


280  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

carriage  drove  up,  and  were  standing  about  in  groups  en- 
joying the  warm  winter  sun.  In  one  of  these  was  Laura 
Brandon,  looking  as  glowingly  beautiful,  happy,  and  ani- 
mated, Henry  thought,  as  he  had  ever  seen  her.  As  Mrs. 
Brandon's  carriage  drove  up,  Laura  immediately  came 
meeting  them,  not  thinking  of  course  that  any  one  was  in 
it  but  her  aunt  and  Violet ;  but  when  the  door  was  opened, 
and  Henry  made  a  motion  to  get  out,  she  stepped  back  in 
surprise,  but,  with  a  merry  laugh,  instantly  said  : 

"  Cousin,  you  took  me  so  by  surprise  that  I  did  not  at 
the  instant  recognize  you.  Come,  you  appear  to  be  awk- 
ward, let  me  assist  you,"  and  pleasantly  offered  him  her 
hand. 

Henry  accepted  the  proffered  assistance,  but  gave  her 
his  left  hand,  and  thanked  her  humorously  for  her  assist- 
ance. 

"  You  gave  me  the  wrong  hand,  sir,  or  I  should  have 
waited  on  you  more  gracefully." 

"  Oh !  it  is  good  enough  for  him,  Laura ;  he  did  not  deserve 
even  that,  for  he  was  away  all  day  yesterday,  and  only  re- 
turned this  morning." 

"  Ah !  where  have  you  been  rambling,  young  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Come,  Violet ;  you  should  not  tell  tales  out  of  school. 
I  will  tell  you  some  other  day,  Laura." 

"  Were  you  at  that  show,  or  frolic,  or  whatever  it  was, 
down  below,  yesterday  ?  —  w^ere  you,  cousin  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  was  at  one  yesterday,  Laura ;  but  hush :  you  tw^o 
girls,  and  mother,  are  ever  on  the  w'atch  after  my  comings 
and  goings.  I  am  all  safe  —  what  more  do  you  want?  and 
equally  prepared  with  the  best  of  you  to  make  the  most 
pious  responses,"  and  then  said  quickly  to  Laura,  as  if  to 
change  the  conversation  :  "  I  came  to  church  chiefly  to-day, 
Laura,  to  criticise  your  Christmas  embellishment,  as  Violet 
and  you  were  the  principal  artists." 

Laura  had  already  seemed  to  lose  the  brightness  of  her 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  281 

face,  after  Henry  telling  her  that  he  had  been  to  a  frolic 
down  in  the  Hills;  but  the  congregation  beginning  to  enter 
the  church,  she  made  no  reply.  She  had  heard  her  father 
speak  of  the  gander-pulling  to  be  at  Manese's,  as  the  only 
one  he  had  ever  heard  of  in  the  State,  and  express  his  dis- 
approbation of  such  sports;  saying  further,  that  Miller 
had  got  it  up,  and  it  was  rumored  that  the  sheriff  would 
be  there  for  the  purpose  of  apprehending  him.  She  there- 
fore quickly  saw  that  her  cousin  would  be  likely  to  reap  a 
full  share  of  severe  censure,  as  soon  as  it  became  known 
to  her  mother  that  he  had  participated  in  it. 

After  the  services  in  church  were  over,  and  the  concrre- 
gation  were  passing  out,  she  sought  the  opportunity  to 
get  near  him,  and  said  to  him  that  she  had  listened  with 
but  indifferent  interest  to  Mr.  Jerome  that  day,  from  the 
fact  that  he  had  been  uppermost  in  her  thoughts  all  the 
while. 

"You  compliment  me  highly,  Laura,  by  such  a  distin- 
guished preference;  what  special  attribute  of  mine  so  en- 
gaged your  reflections  ?  " 

"I  am  in  no  mood  for  jesting,  cousin.  I  am  really 
troubled.  Will  you  let  me  ask  if  you  were  at  that  gandei'- 
pullin gs\)ort,  yesterday?  You  know  it  will  make  no  dif- 
ference with  me." 

"  Then,  why  do  you  wish  to  know,  Laura  ? " 

"You  can  very  well  imagine  without  putting  me  to  the 
pain  of  saying." 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  but  thought  it  best  to  tell 
her  positively  that  he  was. 

Laura,  for  a  few  moments,  appeared  to  lose  all  conscious- 
ness of  where  she  was  ;  and,  as  Henry  Brandon  thought, 
was  on  the  point  of  giving  away  to  her  feelings,  when  he 
said  quickly:  "Come,  Laura,  let's  go  out,  and  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it." 

As  they  stepped  out  of  the  door,  they  were  met  by  Sally 
24* 


282  BLOOM    AND    BEIER. 

Morton,  who  was,  as  usual,  full  of  life  and  wit,  and  con- 
gratulated them  on  looking  so  handsome  and  so  happy ; 
and  in  reply  to  some  remark  of  Henry  Brandon,  said  that 
the  parish  could  furnish  several  couples,  if  the  parties  could 
get  their  consent. 

"  Yes,"  again  said  Henry  ;  "  but  your  qualification  is  a 
very  serious  one.  Consent  is  not  only  difficult  to  obtain, 
but  more  difficult  to  retain ;  so  Mr.  Jerome  and  I  concluded 
not  long  since,  in  a  confidential  exchange  of  ideas  —  had 
he  never  spoken  to  you  on  that  difficult  question,  Miss 
Sally?" 

"No,  sir ;  not  as  distinctly,  at  least,  as  he  and  you  appear 
to  have  discussed  it." 

"  Perhaps,  and  I  hope  it  has  ceased  to  be  so  difficult  of 
solution  as  it  then  was;  so  far  as  it  applies  to  him  at  least." 

"  I  was  not  aware  of  his  having  had  any  difficulty  of  the 
kind,  Mr.  Barrider." 

*'  None,  at  least,  that  an  officiating  priest  could  not  remove 
—  rather  a  better  state  of  affairs  than  he  seemed  to  hope 
for  at  that  time." 

"  My  dear  young  friend,  I  see  that  you  aspire  to  wit  as 
well  as  learning." 

"  No,  no  ;  only  to  truth." 

Mr.  Jerome,  overhearing  a  portion  of  the  repartee,  ap- 
proached them,  and  asked  if  they  were  getting  up  the 
preliminaries  to  a  hostile  meeting. 

"No,"  replied  Brandon;  "I  w^as  only  making  a  sort  of 
defence  of  your  interests,  to  which  Miss  Morton  appeared 
to  take  some  exception ;  but  had  you  not  come  up,  I  can- 
not ansAver  for  the  extreme  to  which  she  might  have  gone, 
and  I  thank  you  for  your  timely  presence." 

"  And  you,  sir,  in  the  true  spirit  of  decaying  chivalry, 
endeavored  to  urge  me  on  —  fie  upon  you  !  Quarrel  with 
a  woman  I  " 

"  Well,"  replied  he,  laughing ;  "  I  must  cry  peccavi,  but 


BLOOM     AND     B  It  I  E  R  .  283 

then  some  one  must  quarrel  with  you  girls,  or  there  would 
be  no  living  on  the  continent  with  you,  and  considering  the 
jDopular  favor  running  in  behalf  of  your  sex,  I  rather  think 
it  showed  higli  moral  courage  on  my  part  to  dare  the  colli- 
sion." 

"  You  are  ambitious,  then,  of  that  distinction?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  ambition  that,  as  I  once  heard  a  Yankee  Gov- 
ernor express  himself." 

"  A  vaulting  ambition." 

"  So  it  may  be ;  but  for  a  long  while  I  have  thought 
that  I  should  like  to  get  into  a  serious  difficulty  with  a 
woman,  just  to  see  if  I  had  nerve  enough  to  go  through 
with  it." 

"  Jocky  of  Norfolk,  be  not  too  bold  !  You  may  get  into 
one  sooner  than  you  think,  and  then  you  would  give  a  king- 
dom for  a  horse  to  fly  the  field  with,  but  not  to  fight  upon. 
I  pray  you  therefore,  young  knight,  not  to  court  your  fate 
too  soon." 

"  Come,  come,  "  said  Mr.  Jerome,  "desist,  or  I  shall  be 
compelled  to  read  the  *  Riot  Act.'  " 

**  1  accept  your  mediation,  Mr.  Jerome.  I  already  see 
that  the  contest  would  be  an  unequal  one ;  and  now.  Miss 
Sally,  I  withdraw  my  provoking  banter,  provided  you  with- 
draw your  semi-threat  and  prophecy." 

"Very  well,  I  accept,  with  this  injunction  to  you:  be- 
ware of  entrance  to  a  quarrel — particularly  with  a  woman, 
for  I  tell  you  in  all  truth  that  few  men  ever  made  a  woman 
beware,  or  survived  unhurt,  the  contest ;  it  is  one  of  those 
victories,  even  when  won,  that  ruins  the  victor." 

The  congregation  were  now  beginning  to  leave,  and 
Laura,  who  had  not  even  spoken  during  the  conversation 
between  Henry  Brandon  and  ^liss  Morton,  now  a.sked 
Henry,  in  a  subdued  sort  of  tone,  if  he  would  be  at  church 
on  Christmas  Day? 

"Yes,  I  expect  to,  of  course;  particular!  v  i{  you  request 
it." 


284  BLOOM     AND     BRIER. 

"  Yes  ;  I  would  be  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Any  especial  reason,  Laura  ?  " 

"Yes  —  no.  Well,  perhaps  so;  I  may  have  something 
to  say  to  you  then — not  now  though." 

"  Christmas  does  not  come  until  Thursday,  and  you  are 
all  to  meet  here  on  Wednesday  again  ;  suppose  I  meet  you 
here?" 

"  Very  w^ell,  Wednesday." 

"  Well,  suppose,"  said  he,  laughing,  "  I  ride  over  to- 
morrow evening  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  know^  that  I  will  always  be  glad  to  see  you. 
Come  when  you  may,"  attempting  a  smile,  as  she  said  this. 

"  Ah,  Laura !  I  am  afraid  you  are  too  timid,  either  for 
your  own  happiness  or  mine." 

They  had  now  reached  the  .carriage,  where  her  mother 
■was  waiting  for  her ;  who,  of  course,  saw  their  confidential 
tone  and  manner,  with  no  great  pleasantness. 


CHAPTER  XLIL 

"The  strong  base  and  building  of  my  lore 
Is  as  the  very  centre  of  the  earth." 

ACCORDING  to  the  appointment,  half  jestingly  made 
the  day  before  at  church,  Henry  Brandon  rode  over 
to  see  Laura  on  the  following  evening. 

He  w^as  fearful  that  the  excuse  which  his  aunt  now  had, 
in  his  participation  in  the  affair  at  old  Manese's,  would  be 
sufficient  to  bring  his  intercourse  with  Laura  to  a  final 
crisis  ;  and  that  prurient  desire  which  most  people  have  for 
finding  out  their  troubles  in  advance,  induced  him  to  be 
punctual  to  his  engagement. 

He  had  observed  the  expression  of  her  face  when  he  had 
walked  up  to  the  carriage  with  Laura  on  the  day  before, 
and  knew  that  it  boded  no  good  to  his  hopes ;  and  when  (as 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  285 

he  knew  she  would)  she  should  hear  of  his  visit  to  old 
Manese's,he  had  every  reason  to  believe  that  she  would  con- 
centrate all  the  energy  of  her  opposition,  and  bring  it  to 
bear  against  him  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  it  impossible 
for  him  to  longer  visit  at  her  house.  Although  the  incident 
was  trifling  in  its  character,  as  Laura  had  said  to  him,  it 
was  yet  a  sufiiciont  spark  to  kindle  into  flame  the  intense 
opposition  to  his  marriage  into  her  family,  which  she  had 
felt  for  several  weeks,  and  had  given  unmistakable  evi- 
dence of.  From  this  very  fact,  that  Laura  had  spoken  of  it 
as  an  unimportant  matter,  and  yet  seemed  so  deeply  affected 
by  it,  he  was  convinced  that  she  had  already  passed  through 
a  severe  ordeal  with  her  mother  —  much  more  so,  than  she 
had  revealed  to  him. 

These,  and  other  such  reflections,  had  disturbed  him  all 
the  morning,  and  no  sooner  had  he  concluded  his  dinner 
than  he  was  on  his  horse,  and  galloping  over  to  Mr.  Robert 
Brandon's. 

Mrs.  Brandon  had  that  morning  had  a  long  private  in- 
terview with  her  daughter,  and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life, 
Laura  had  shown  her  some  temper. 

"  You  refuse  to  tell  me  then,  Laura,  whether  you  have 
engaged  yourself  to  Henry  Brandon  or  not,"  said  Mrs. 
Brandon  to  her  daughter,  after  they  had  been  talking  some 
time. 

"Yes,  madam,  I  hope  you  will  allow  me  the  privilege 
of  keeping  silence ;  it  is  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  have  ever 
asked  such  a  leniency  of  you." 

"  I  certainly  should,  my  daughter,  if  I  did  not  know  and 
feel,  that  by  that  single  secret  you  were  about  to  destroy 
your  own  happiness,  and  the  peace  of  your  own  family,  as 
W'ell  as  Henry's  ;  it  is  a  most  unsuitable  match  for  you  both, 
view  it  from  what  point  you  will ;  and  I  shall  never  give 
my  consent  to  it." 

"  I  have  not  told  you,  mother,  that  I  was  engaged  to  him, 


286  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

but  I  am  almost  prepared  to  tell  you  that  I  will  never 
marry  against  your  wishes,  if  positively  expressed.  Love, 
so  far  as  I  know  anything  of  it,  is  —  with  me  at  least  —  a 
sentiment ;  and  if  any  man  should  sufficiently  become  the 
object  of  it,  as  to  make  me  willing  to  marry  him,  I  still 
wnll  love  him,  even  if  our  marriage  was  frustrated.  Marry- 
ing is  only  a  desire  to  increase  my  domestic  and  social 
happiness  —  certainly  not  destroy  it  —  which  I  would  do 
if  I  should  intrpduce  discord  between  myself,  husband,  and 
parents." 

"  Then  you  are  certainly  guilty  of  a  great  wrong  to 
Henry  Brandon,  by  encouraging  his  attentions." 

"  By  that  I  sup^iose  you  mean  that  no  circumstances  can 
mitigate  your  opposition  to  him  —  not  even  affection  on  my 
part?" 

"  I  mean  that  under  no  circumstances  can  I  ever  receive 
him  into  my  family  as  the  husband  of  my  daughter?" 

"If  you  express  such  open  disregard  of  my /ee/i??^.9,  how 
do  you  expect  me  to  respect  —  nothing  more  than  your 
'prejudices  f  " 

"  They  are  not  prejudices  ;  they  are  feelings  and  opinions, 
and  regard  yourself  more  than  they  affect  me.  I  have  lived 
for  you,  my  daughter,  and  I  would  die  for  you,  but  I  could 
never  forgive  your  marriage  with  Henry  Brandon." 

"  It  is  but  fair,  mother,  to  suppose  that  I  have  inherited 
strong  feelings  from  yourself.  Then,  again,  suppose  these 
feelings  should  drive  me  on  to  marrying  cousin  Henry  — 
even  as  yours  drive  you  on  to  opposing  it  —  should  I  expect 
to  be  driven  from  your  heart  and  your  home? " 

"  I  place  before  you  no  such  alternatives,  nor  do  I  desire 
you  to  establish  them  ;  yet  you  can  do  as  you  please — you 
have  heard  what  I  have  had  to  say." 

"  Yes,  mother,  you  certainly  do  make  alternatives,  and 
the  very  severest  that  a  mother  can  make  to  a  daughter." 

"  There  we  differ." 


BI.OOM     AND     liRIER.  287 

"I  have  never  wilfully  disobeyed  you,  mother,  uor  will 
I  now,  however  cruel  your  exactions ;  but  it  does  appear 
to  me  that  you  might  have  some  regard  for  the  feelings 
of  such  a  daughter  as  I  have  ever  tried  to  be." 

"I  think  you  mistake  your  feelings,  Laura,"  said  Mrs. 
Brandon,  in  rather  more  soothing  tones.  "When  did  your 
feelings  become  so  interested  in  Henry  Brandon?" 

"If  you  will  know  the  life-long  secret  of  my  heart,  and 
the  only  one  I  ever  kept  from  you,  I  must  tell  you  —  from 
ray  earliest  girlhood^ 

"  Is  it  possible,  my  daughter,  that  you  so  long  kept  this 
from  me  ? " 

"I  have,  and  from  every  living  creature  but  himself; 
and  no  other  will  I  ever  marry ;  and  no  persuasion,  no 
threat,  can  induce  me  to  move  from  these  positions ;  and 
if  I  was  as  any  other  girl  I  know  —  even  as  Lucy  —  with 
such  feelings  I  would  marry  him,  if  you  drove  me,  penny- 
less,  from  your  door  forever,  and  with  him  alone  meet 
every  sorrow,  and  breast  every  storm,  as  they  rose  upon 
the  troubled  sea  of  life,  and,  clinging  only  to  him,  as  he 
would  cling  to  me,  laugh  at  every  frown  of  mortal  eye, 
and  scorn  every  hate  of  mortal  heart.  Now,  mother,  you 
know  the  secret  and  the  force  of  my  Avoman's  bosom.  Do 
as  you  will,  but  let  me  beg  you  to  consider  well  your  action." 

"  I  came  for  no  scenes,  Laura  —  I -merely  wished  to  have 
a  serious  talk  with  you  in  regard  to  a  matter  which  I  think 
of  the  highest  importance  to  us  all." 

"No,  mother,  you  mistake  your  position  :  it  concerns  no 
living  being  but  myself;  and  my  being  is  so  involved  in 
it,  that  no  human  thought,  nor  human  deed,  can  separate 
them.  With  me  it  is  everything  —  it  is  all.  AVith  you,  at 
most,  'tis  but  apart.'' 

"I  say,  Laura,  I  did  not  come  to  witness  a  scene;  and 
you  are'  certainly  acting,  my  daughter."  She  said  this 
with  the  vain  effort  at  a  smile ;  but  it  was  the  smile  of 


288  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

helpless  desperation,  and  tlierefore  entitled  to  sympathy ; 
as  perhaps  there  is  nothing  tenderer  than  the  feeling  of  a 
parent  to  a  child ;  and  there  can  be  nothing  more  unfor- 
tunate than  a  diflerence  between  them.  To  yield  up  a 
child,  then,  under  any  circumstances,  against  the  will  — 
or  a  daughter  to  the  love,  and  care,  and  arms  of  one  in 
whom  the  completest  confidence  is  not  felt — is  certainly  the 
severest  ordeal  through  which  a  parent's  heart  can  pass. 
There  was  this  much  to  be  said  in  behalf  of  Mrs.  Brandon, 
in  her  opposition  to  the  marriage  of  her  daughter  with  her 
cousin. 

"  Mother,"  answered  Laura,  "  you  too  deeply  wrong  me, 
by  the  use  of  such  words,  when  you  apply  them  to  one 
whose  happiness  trembles  upon  your  decision.  It  is  my 
heart  that  has  received  the  wound,  not  yours.  I  have 
done  nothing  to  wound  you;  and  yet  you  insult  its  agonies 
by  scoffing  at  its  aching,  bursting  throbs,  in  speaking  of 
them  as  acting.  Neither  have  I  enacted  any  scene.  I 
have  told  you,  in  the  only  words  that  could  express  it,  the 
deep  secret  of  my  heart,  and  you  yourself  did  persecute 
me  into  revealing  it." 

"  This  interview  is  becoming  too  unpleasant  to  be  longer 
carried  on.  I  only  wished  to  advise  you,  for  your  own 
happiness,  as  well  as  that  of  Henry  Brandon,  that  if  you 
did  not  intend  to  marry  him,  it  was  but  proper  for  you  to 
refuse  his  attentions." 

"Your  words,  mother,  are  colder  to  my  heart  than  icicles." 

"  Then  vou  refuse  to  tell  me  whether  vou  have  re-engao;ed 
yourself  to  your  cousin,  or  not.^" 

"Yes,  madam,  you  must  permit  me  to  refuse.  I  ha\e 
told  you  all  that  I  now  feel  willing  to  tell ;  and  as  to  refus- 
ing the  attentions  of  cousin  Henry,  that  must  be  as  my 
feelings  dictate  when  we  meet." 

Mrs.  Brandon  now  rose  and  left  her  daughter's  room, 
and  no  sooner  had  she  done  so,  than  Laura  fell  upon  her 


BI.OOM    AND    BRIER.  289 

lounge  in  convulsions  of  tears,  only  saying :  "  And  must  I 
give  him  up?    Must  I  let  this  poor  heart  break  and  die?" 

Lucy  returned  to  the  room  very  quickly,  after  hearing 
her  mother  leave  it,  and  by  degrees  soothed  her  sister  to 
quietness. 

AVhat  the  feeling  was,  she  perhaps  scarcely  knew  herself, 
but  when  she  met  her  mother  at  the  dinner-table,  she  never 
appeared  more  beautiful,  more  cheerful,  or  happier,  and 
was  still  so  when  Henry  Brandon  came  in  the  evening. 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 

"  But  love  can  hope  where  reason  would  despair." 

FOK  a  winter  day,  the  evening  was  calm,  bright,  and 
lovely,  and  imparted  something  of  its  own  beauty 
to  Henry  Brandon's  heart.  In  spite  of  the  anxieties  which 
had  disturbed  it  in  the  morning,  he  felt  a  strange  happi- 
ness come  over  him  while  galloping  along  over  the  prairies 
to  "  Starlight."  He  had  dressed  himself  with  scrupulous 
elegance,  and  never  looked  more  handsome.  His  coat 
buttoned  in  front,  with  his  arm  resting  in  the  breast  of  it, 
only  gave  him  the  graCe  of  an  unpremeditated  act,  as  he 
came  walking  from  the  gate  to  the  house.  He  was  met 
at  the  door  by  a  servant,  and  immediately  shown  to  the 
drawing-room. 

Lucy  and  Laura  entered  in  a  few  moments,  both  appear- 
ing delighted  to  see  him,  and  were  very  soon  followed  by 
Mr,  Robert  Brandon  and  his  lady.  Henry  ran  to  meet 
them,  with  his  lame  arm  still  resting  in  the  breast  of  his 
coat.  Lucy  had  observed  this  before,  but  had  said  nothing 
about  it  until  now,  when  she  said,  with  a  pleasant  laugh : 


290  BLOOM    AND    BEIER. 

"  Cousiu,  I  really  admire  it  very  much ;  but  then  you 
are  certainly  attitudinizing  for  our  pleasure  this  evening. 
Did  you  learn  that  new  figure  at  your  friend  Manese's?" 

"  I  certainly  did,  Lucy,"  he  replied,  very  pleasantly. 

"  May  I  ask  who  your  instructor  was  ?  "  said  Laura. 

"  Yes ;  but  you  place  me  somewhat  in  the  predicament 
of  Hotspur,  when  he  told  Glendower  that  he,  too,  could  call 
up  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep,  but  was  in  some  doubt  as 
to  their  coming.  I  know  how  it  was  done,  but  can  scarcely 
say  wlio  did  it." 

"  You  speak  in  riddles,  when  the  occasion  requires  plain 
■words,  cousin." 

"  Then,  if  I  must,  I  will  tell  a  tale  which  will  harrow 
up  your  souls  —  are  you  prepared  for  it?  " 

"  As  well,  i^erhaps,  as  we  will  ever  be." 

"  I  received  a  flying  shot  from  a  gun  of  the  sheriff's 
party,  the  other  night,  at  Mauese's,  when  the  attempt  was 
made  to  apprehend  my  old  friend  Miller." 

This  announcement  was  even  more  than  Laura  had  ex- 
pected, while  Mrs.  Brandon  affected  the  greatest  surprise 
at  young  gentlemen  attending  such  sports  and  places. 
Henry  only  laughed,  saying  that  he  was  much  entertained 
by  the  whole  thing,  and  certainly  was  heartily  welcomed 
by  the  people  down  there,  which  was  more  than  he  feared 
•was  his  case  nearer  home. 

"You  do  not  say  seriously,  that  you  were  shot  there, 
Henry  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Brandon. 

*'  I  certainly  do,  madam." 

"  What  do  you  think  will  be  said  about  the  accomplished 
and  highly  educated  Henry  Brandon  being  at  such  a 
place?" 

"  I  really  have  not  concerned  myself  about  that  feature 
of  the  affair." 

"Do  you  say  that  you  are  indifferent  to  public  opinion, 
Henry  ?  "  asked  his  uncle. 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  291 

*'  Yes,  sir,  about  tliiit,  as  I  really  don't  see  any  good  to 
come  to  me  from  either  private  or  public  estimation.  I 
rather  think  the  signs  favorable  to  my  being  compelled  to 
make  my  own  way  through  the  world,  regardless  of  the 
stupidity  of  both  ;  at  all  events,  I  stand  in  that  position  at 
present." 

"You  are  not  likely  to  win  any  great  favor  by  playing' 
such  cards." 

"No;  nor  with  any  other  in  this  portion  of  the  great 
moral  vineyard,  as  I  see  matters." 

"You  do  not  think  of  leaving  us,  do  you?"  said  Mrs. 
Brandon,  her  eyes  ill-concealing  her  pleasure  in  the  prob- 
ability of  getting  an  affirmative  answer. 

"I  contemplate  it  as  among  the  probabilities  of  the 
future." 

"  Not  of  the  present,  then  ? "  asked  Laura. 

"No,  cousin  ;  not  so  long  as  the  young  maidens  smile 
upon  my  stay." 

"  Would  it  not  be  better  to  select  only  one,  cousin,  and 
let  her  smile  upon  you  for  life?" 

"  I  have  entertained  such  illusive  hopes,  but  find  myself 
about  to  give  up  the  strife  unto  that  beatitude." 

"  I  am  afraid,  Henry,  your  getting  wounded  has  done 
nothing  for  the  softness  of  your  feelings.  We  will  leave 
you  to  the  girls  and  the  piano,  perhaps  they  will  soothe 
you.  Come,  Catherine,  let  us  leave  them,"  said  Mr. 
Brandon. 

Mr.  Brandon  had  come  in  with  his  wife,  fearing  that  she 
might  say  something  unpleasant  to  Henry,  and  now  sug- 
gested her  leaving  the  drawing-room  with  him,  as  an  ad- 
ditional safeguard  ;  thinking  that  matters  would  take  their 
course,  if  even  left  to  themselves. 

They  had  not  been  left  long  to  themselves  before  Lucy 
rose  to  leave  also  ;  but  saying ; 
'     "  I  am  glad,  cousin  Henry,  that  you  had  the  independ- 


292  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

ence  to  speak  of  that  foolish  Manese  affair  as  you  did,  as  I 
do  not  think  that  silence  would  have  done  you  any  good. 
I  have  never  known  mother  to  take  so  decided  a  stand 
about  anything  as  she  has  in  regard  to  —  you  and  Laura — 
and  cannot  see  into  it ;  and  though  she  has  often  in  her 
life  checked  me,  I  have  never  known  her  to  even  cross 
Laura,  and  I  think  if  Laura  will  be  firm,  and  say  but 
little,  that  she  will  eventually  give  way ;  but  to  be  candid, 
I  ask  you  not  to  be  too  much  encouraged.  I  have  done,, 
and  will  do  all  I  can  for  you  both,"  then  left  the  room, 
Henry  saying  to  her  as  she  left :  "  Glorious  for  you,  Lucy." 

Laura  alternately  blushed  and  changed  her  color,  during 
the  time  that  her  sister  was  speaking. 

Henry  now  turned  to  her  and  half  laughingly  said : 

"  All  alone,  Laura,  now  tell  me  my  fate." 

"  I  have  passed  through  a  scene  this  morning,  cousin, 
that  has  almost  taken  my  senses ;  I  scarcely  believe  I  could 
bear  the  shock  of  such  another  without  —  but  never  mind." 

"  What  was  the  nature  of  it,  Laura?" 

"  Oh  !  I  can  scarcely  tell  you  ; "  but  proceeded  to  relate 
as  nigh  as  she  could  the  nature  of  the  interview  between 
herself  and  her  mother. 

"  The  whole  force  of  her  inquiries  was  in  regard  to  a  re- 
engagement,  not  as  to  your  feelings  ?  " 

"Both,  probably;  but  mainly  with  reference  to  that." 

"  What  did  you  say  to  her  ? " 

"  Oh !  more  than  I  can  ever  say  to  my  mother  again, 
cousin." 

"  I  am  sorry,  Laura,  that  I  have  brought  this  trouble  on 
you  ;  but  did  you  tell  her  ?  " 

"  No,  I  refused ;  and  she  was  very  bitter  in  regard  to  my 
course.  Now,  can  you  advise  me  what  course  to  pursue  ? 
You  know  my  feelings  toward  you,  and  you  know  the  cir- 
cumstances. With  your  man's  heart,  tell  —  mine  is  a 
woman's." 


BLOOM     AND    BRIER.  1J93 

"  You  miLst  tell  her,  then  ;  and  if  not  sufficient  to  bear 
the  pressure  of  her  opposition,  break  it  up.  If  you  are, 
you  can  depend  on  me  under  all  situations.  This  is  as  ex- 
plicit as  I  can  be." 

"  And  leave  me,  cousin  ?  "  she  asked,  with  the  last  tinge 
of  color  leaving  her  cheek. 

"No;  not  leave  you,  Laura,  unless  you  command  it." 

"  That  I  can  never  do." 

"  Do  you  mean  then  to  go  against  their  consent  ?  " 

"  These  are  the  only  two  alternatives,  I  know  ;  but  how  — 
oh  !  how  am  I  to  choose  ?  " 

Henry  now  discovered  that  she  was  slightly  disposed  to 
wildness  of  thought,  and  saw  at  once  that  it  was  better  not 
to  bring  matters  to  a  conclusion,  and  suggested  that  she 
let  them  remain  as  they  were  for  the  present.  This  she 
seemed  willing  to  do,  and  became  more  calm.  He  then 
told  her  that  it  would  only  increase  her  troubles  for  him  to 
come  there  again  under  the  present  circumstances,  and  for 
a  while  at  least,  only  to  meet  each  other  on  neutral  ground. 
This  she  also  thought  advisable ;  but  asked  him,  with  a 
modest  smile,  to  make  the  occasions  himself,  as  it  would  be 
out  of  her  power  to  do  so. 

She  then  sang  him  a  plaintive  little  song,  on  a  low  key, 
but  with  a  more  quiet  expression  than  she  had  had  that  day. 
Henry  seeing  that  her  feelings  had  resumed  a  natural 
channel,  proposed  to  leave,  telling  her  that  he  would  meet 
her  on  Christmas  Day,  as  he  believed  that  Violet  was  to 
have  all  of  her  young  friends  with  her  then,  for  the  last 
time  before  being  married. 

Rising  from  the  piano,  in  response  to  Henry's  "  good-by," 
she  quoted  Byron's  words : 

"  Farewell ! 
For  in  that  word  —  that  fatal  word  —  howe'er 
We  promibc  —  hope  —  believe  —  there  breathes  despair." 


294  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"1^0,  no  ;  not  yet  Laura,"  said  he,  smiling,  and,  dra^-ing 
the  almost  hopeless  girl  to  his  bosom,  and  kissing  away  the 
tear  that  dropped  upon  her  blanching  cheek,  left  the  house, 
never  again  to  enter  it. 

Christmas  week,  that  festal  time,  under  the  old  regime, 
for  white  and  black,  had  now  come  and  gone.  During  the 
time,  however,  Henry  Brandon  had  met  Laura  on  many 
pleasant  occasions,  and  was  himself  the  gayest  of  the  gay ; 
but  she  was  evidently  giving  way. 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 

"  Good  night,  good  night !  parting  is  such  sweet  sorrow, 
That  I  shall  say  good  night  till  it  be  morrow." 

ACTIVE  preparations  were  now  being  made  for  Violet's 
wedding,  and  during  the  time,  Laura  and  Lucy  were 
frequently  at  Mrs.  Brandon's ;  but  the  former  seemed  to 
enter  with  but  small  zest  into  the  animated  arrangements, 
and  was  evidently  living  under  a  pressure  too  great  both 
for  her  spirits  and  her  strength.  Henry,  however,  saw  pro- 
per to  allude  to  the  unpleasant  circumstances  but  seldom, 
as  he  was  well  satisfied  that  no  favorable  change  in  affairs 
was  going  on. 

At  length  the  wedding  night  was  at  hand,  and  the  occa- 
sion was  a  bright  and  happy  one  for  every  one ;  even  Laura 
seemed  to  forget  her  sadness,  and  entered  with  something 
of  her  former  animation  into  the  joy  and  gayety  of  the 
evening. 

Henry  Brandon  paid  her  marked  attention,  and  danced 
with  her  several  times,  which  appeared  to  give  her  great 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  295 

pleasure,  and  was  as  often  with  lier  at  the  piano,  when  she 
sang  for  him  with  all  her  former  joyousness  and  sweetness  ; 
and  yet  behind  all  there  was  a  rooted  sorrow,  of  which 
but  very  few  in  that  gay  assenil)h\ge  dreamed,  that  loaned 
its  bright  but  unearthly  liglit  to  her  beauty,  and  to  the 
elegance  and  elasticity  of  her  conversation  —  for  while  the 
one  was  universally  remarked,  the  other  was  the  charm  of 
every  group.  Henry  Brandon  saw  this  and  knew  it,  and 
the  fact  sank  deep  into  his  heart,  yet  knew  no  soothing 
word,  no  healing  remedy  —  it  was  the  cold,  bright  light  of 
the  evening  star  before  sinking  down  below  the  horizon  of 
eternity.  They  were  the  last  happy  hours  she  ever  knew 
on  earth ! 

Some  few  days  after  this,  her  mother  sought  an  occasion 
to  say  to  her,  incidentally  to  some  other  general  opinions, 
that  she  should  be  cautious  in  receiving  the  attentions  of 
Henry  Brandon,  as  it  would  certainly  lead  him  to  enter- 
tain hopes  which  she  had  promised  not  to  gratify. 

Laura  simply  replied,  that  as  she  had  surrendered  the 
dearest  hope  of  her  life,  she  wished  never  to  have  the  subject 
again  alluded  to. 

It  was  but  a  few  days  after  this,  that  she  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing note  to  Henry  Brandon  : 

"  Starlight,  Wednesday  Night, 

"^Iy  Dear  Cousin:  — The  purport  of  this  note  will  not, 
I  know,  surprise  you,  though  you  may  not  expect  it ;  nor 
many  days  since,  did  I  ever  expect  to  write  such.  But 
causes  have  existed,  and  do  still  exist,  which  render  it  just 
and  proper  that  I  ask  you  to  relieve  us  both  of  our  anom- 
alous sort  of  engagement.  The  nature  of  those  causes  you 
already  know  too  well,  to  demand  of  me  the  pain  of  repe- 
tition. 

"I  might  tell  you  of  what  my  feelings  are  still  towards 
you,  but  it  would  not  be  right ;  it  would  be  as  an  effort  to 
bind  the  living  to  the  dead.  I  will,  therefore,  only  ask 
you,  generously  to  forgive  all  the  parties  to  this  wretched 


296  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

drama,  and  if  you  can,  to  forget  one,  who,  as  a  tender, 
clinging  vine,  had  flung  its  soft  tendrils  out  upon  your 
name,  your  character,  and  your  manly  virtues,  but  bVoke 
when  the  first  storm  came,  from  their  own  weakness  and 
tenuity,  and  now  lies  helpless  at  your  feet.  The  morning 
rose  gives  no  promise  of  its  early  fading,  yet  when  twilight 
comes,  its  hues  are  gone,  its  fragrance  shed ;  'tis  thus  with 
me.  In  the  morning  of  my  life  I  little  thought  to  wither 
all  so  soon,  but  the  evening  has  already  come,  and  my  life- 
leaves  faded  ;  nor  can  the  sweet  night-dews  of  even  your 
affection  revive  their  early  morning  tints.  In  after  years 
— 't  is  all  that  I  dare  to  ask  —  will  you  still  remember  me  as 
some  strange,  and  bright,  and  joyous  thing  that  floated 
along  your  youthful  path,  but  early  paled  its  light  away, 
and  left  no  trace  behind  of  having  ever  been  ?   And  now — 

"  '  Farewell !  a  word  which  hath  been,  and  must  be, 
A  sound  that  makes  us  linger,  yet  farewell  I ' 

"  In  heart,  ever  yours, 

"  Laura  Brandon." 

Although  the  purport  of  this  note,  as  Laura  said,  was 
not  a  great  surprise,  yet  when  he  read  it,  he  sat  stupefied, 
and  nearly  paralyzed,  and  could  find  no  power  at  his  com- 
mand suitable  for  a  reply. 

In  this  time  Hunter  had  already  become  perfectly  do 
mesticated  at  Mrs.  Brandon's,  and  Henry  made  haste  to 
make  all  preparations  for  returning  immediately  to  the 
law-office  of  Judge  Lorn.  A  few  days  more  found  him  at 
his  old  quarters  in  the  city.  Books  were  his  only  refuge ; 
society  presented  no  charms,  and  for  many  months  he  had 
never  studied  in  his  college  days  with  half  the  same  assi- 
duity ;  never  visiting  in  the  city,  and  but  seldom  even 
visiting  his  mother. 

Early  in  the  following  spring,  after  the  marriage  of 
Violet,  Lucy  Brandon  was  married  to  Mr.  Campbell,  with 
a  wedding  entertainment  quite  equalling  in  extent,  sump- 
tuousness,  and  gayety,  that  of  Hunter  and  Violet.     Henry 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  297 

was  asked  to  attend  it,  by  an  ordinary  invitation  froln  ^Ir. 
and  Mrs.  Brandon,  and  by  an  especial  note  from  Lucy,  but 
declined  to  attend. 

Lucy  immediately  removed  to  the  city,  but  Henry  never 
visited  her,  though  repeatedly  insisted  on  to  do  so,  both  by 
Mr.  Campbell,  and  by  messages  from  Lucy,  but  once  for 
all  declined,  saying  to  Mr.  Campbell  that  he  loved  Lucy 
almost  as  his  sister,  yet  the  associations  in  connection  with 
her  were  too  painful  to  him,  but  would  go  some  time  or 
other  without  invitation,  when  he  felt  that  it  would  be 
pleasant  to  him  to  see  her.  Laura  never  visited  the  city, 
and  visited  but  little  in  the  country ;  they,  therefore,  never 
met. 

His  uncle  he  frequently  saw,  but  always  avoided  him  — 
as  either  wanting  in  sincerity,  or  the  proper  manliness  to 
control  his  wife,  either  of  which,  to  one  of  Henry  Brandon's 
character,  was  sufficient  cause  of  alienation. 

Growing  weary  both  of  books,  and  the  sort  of  isolation 
which  his  feelings  had  led  him  into,  he  determined  on  a 
stroll,  as  he  called  it,  and  selected  the  West  as  the  theatre 
of  his  wanderings,  with  no  defined  purpose,  beyond  the 
mere  passing  off  of  his  time  ;  and  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
autumn,  made  all  arrangements  for  carrying  out  his  design, 
Hunter  agreeing  to  take  charge  of  his  planting  interest. 
He  had  already  completed  his  other  preparations  for  leav- 
ing, with  the  ubiquitous  "Sam  Brandon,"  as  he  always 
spoke  of  him,  as  his  only  friend  —  the  latter  protesting 
most  seriously  against  being  left  behind. 

Feeling,  however,  that  he  could  not  leave  without  either 
seeing  or  letting  Laura  know  of  his  intention,  he  wrote  her 
a  few  lines,  informing  her  of  the  fact,  and  as  an  excuse  for 
doing  so,  returned  her  the  many  notes,  letters,  and  little 
favors  which  he  had  received  from  her  through  many 
years  —  among  them  the  ring  that  she  had  given  him  and 
had  never  asked  for,  and  the  little  bunch  of  faded  flowers 


298  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

which  she  had  given  him  on  the  eve  of  his  leaving  for 
college. 

The  note  and  package  were  sent  by  "  Sam,"  who  was  told 
to  wait  and  see  if  there  would  be  a  reply,  and  ran  as 
follows : 

"BucKHORXS,  2d  November. 

"My  Dear  Laura: — It  is  with  deep  and  sincere  regret 
that  circumstances  render  it  proper,  perhaps,  to  send  the 
package  which  accompanies  this  note.  It  contains  some 
letters  and  other  small  favors  sent  and  conferred,  when  the 
present  was  all  joy,  and  the  future  all  hope,  both  of  which 
have  ceased  to  exist,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned. 

"  It  is  my  design  to  leave  the  State  in  a  few  days,  with- 
out appointing  a  time  of  return ;  and  while  I  cannot  get 
my  consent  to  destroy  these  small  mementos  of  the  happy 
past,  it  will  be  better  not  to  have  them  with  me,  connected 
as  they  are  with  events  that  must  ever  bring  their  own  pe- 
culiar sorrows. 

"  The  ring  you  have  never  asked  for,  and  till  now,  I 
could  never  get  my  consent  to  return  ;  but  as  it  was  given 
to  represent  a  never-ending  attachment,  it  is  only  right 
that  I  return  it,  now  that  the  promise  has  been  virtually 
broken.  The  notes  and  letters  explain  themselves ;  they 
are  yours  now  —  not  mine.  The  little  bunch  of  flowers 
you  probably  have  forgotten,  but  may  recall  themselves  to 
your  memory,  and  even  in  their  withered  condition  and 
faded  colors,  are  the  best  emblems  of  our  youthful  feel- 
ings ;  and  ay,  too  often,  when  no  eyes  were  upon  me  but 
those  of  heaven,  have  I  pressed  them  to  my  heart  and  lips, 
and  thought  of  her  who  gave  them. 

"I  sometimes  think  that  I  would  like  still  to  know 
you  LOVED  me — still  to  know  I  had  a  place  in  the  heart 
of  the  fair  young  girl  who  stood  before  me  in  her  lovely 
innocence,  her  maiden  truth  and  gentle  beauty,  and  prom- 
ised to  be  mine;  but  then  I  fly  from  the  knowledge  of  so 
sad' a  truth,  as  one  which  has  embittered  my  life.  The 
wither  of  age  and  the  blight  of  grief  rest  upon  all  things, 
and  I  fly  from  them  as  from  a  curse  and  a  woe.  Home, 
friends,  and  the  love  of  early  boyhood  are  as  nothing  to  me 
now,  and  Lleave  them,  perhaps,  forever. 

'*  Yours,  very  truly,  Henry  Brandons" 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  299 

On  reaching  Starlight,  "Sam,"  as  he  had  been  directed, 
called  for  Laura's  waiting-maid,  and  i)]aced  the  package 
in  her  hands,  saying  to  her  that  he  would  wait  for  a  reply. 

The  girl  carried  it  directly  to  her  young  mistress,  who 
was  in  her  own  room  ;  and  having  already  become  a  partial 
invalid,  was  reclining  on  her  couch,  and  listlessly  engaged 
in  turning  over  the  pages  of  "Childe  Harold." 

Nervously  opening  the  note,  and  reading  and  re-reading 
it,  time  and  again,  she  at  length  laid  it  aside  with  a  sigh, 
and  opened  the  package. '  As  her  eye  fell  upon  the  ring 
and  withered  flowers,  she  could  no  longer  restrain  her  feel- 
ings, but,  with  a  look  of  wild  despair,  laughed  a  low,  hys- 
teric laugh,  and  fell  back  upon  her  couch. 

The  very  throbbing  of  her  breaking  heart  soon  nerved 
her  to  consciousness  and  to  thought,  and  asking  the  girl  to 
place  the  writing-table  near  her,  wrote  the  following  note 
in  reply-: 

"Starlight,  2d  November. 

"My  Dear  Cousin:  —  A  note  from  you,  with  a  pack- 
age, has  just  been  handed  to  me.  The 'note  I  read  with 
that  deep  interest  which  you  must  know  anything  from  you 
will  ever  secure.  The  package  contained  some  evidences 
and  mementos  of  the  relation  that  (you  say)  did  once 
exist  between  us;  but  which  I,  in  my  wildness,  perhaps, 
almost  had  dared  to  hope  did  still  exist ;  and  I  make  haste 
to  respond  to  my  heart's  deep  emotion. 

"  The  note,  when  I  first  saw  it,  brought  a  bewildering 
joy,  such  as  my  heart  had  long  been  a  stranger  to,  and  -^ 
shall  I  confess  it?  — there  was  the  secret  confidence  of  a 
moment  that  it  would  tell  me  something  to  restore  my 
lost  hope  and  forgotten  happiness ;  but,  oh !  its  words! 
its  words  !  I  deserv^e,  yet  do  not  all  deserve  them.  I  have 
brourrht  sorrow  to  you,  but  a  broken  heart  to  mvself— and 
still  have  not  the  courage  to  meet  the  causes.  What  your 
grief  has  been,  I  can  well  imagine.  Mine  has  been  even 
more  than  that,  and  I  have  sufiered  more  than  I  thought  a 
human  heart  could  bear.  'S or  have  I  borne  it ;  yet,"as  I 
do,  I  bear  in  silence. 


300  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  It  has  been  some  months  since  I  saw  you,  or  even 
received  the  attention  of  a  note ;  and  while  this,  which 
came  this  morning,  was  so  diflerent  from  any  I  had  ever 
before  received  from  you  —  so  bitter  and  so  sad,  and  — 
shall  I  tell  it  to  you? — the  very  way-notes  of  my  path  to 
the  grave  —  it  yet  brought  a  gladness  to  my  spirit  that 
death  alone  will  give  me  a  brighter,  clearer  title  to.  *  What 
was  that,'  you  ask,  '  that  brought  this  bliss  ? '  Only  a 
reference  to  the  fact  that  you  once  did  love  me,  and  a  refer- 
ence, too,  to  the  fact  that  Laura  Brandon  did  once  love 
you  —  ay,  and  still  doth  love,  and  will  ever  love  you. 

"There  is  no  living  thing  that  ray  poor  timid  heart 
would  thus  expose  its  beatings  to  but  yourself;  but  with 
you  I  feel  that  perfect  confidence  that  knows  no  wrong, 
and  feels  no  fear ;  and  it  will  ever  breathe  its  fragrance  and 
its  truth  about  a  name  that  has  twined  itself  about  my  life 
forever,  and  will  not,  cannot  cease  to  be,  until  my  pulses 
cease  to  count  my  troubles  and  my  days. 

"  This  might  seem  to  some  to  be  the  excited  language  of 
a  frenzied  madness.  To  you  I  know  it  will  not,  but  only 
the  trickling  drops  of  a  bleeding  heart  falling  into  their 
own  dying  bosom. 

"  To  think  aught  else,  would  only  be  to  wrong  one  whose 
tenure  upon  the  things  of  time  and  sense  is  already  loosed. 
Even  now,  while  I  write,  existence  seems  to  have  lost  its 
substance  and  its  joy,  and  I  stand  on  time's  farthest  shore, 
with  my  spirit  fluttering  for  a  flight  into  the  still,  mystic 
realms  we  know  not  of.  Why  it  lingers  there,  I  cannot 
tell,  unless  to  plume  its  wing  with  yet  another  sorrow. 

"You  say  your  design  is  to  leave  the  State.  Oh,  why 
did  you  tell  me  this  ?  Why  not  have  left  me  to  find  it  out 
as  I  would  —  to  fate?  And  yet  I  would  have  known  it — 
since  I  think  I  have  the  right,  in  virtue  of  the  past,  to 
meet  you  once  more  in  life ;  after  that,  we  may  never  meet 
again. 

"  To-morrow,  then,  I  ask  you  to  meet  me,  at  three  o'clock, 
under  the  old  oak-tree  at  the  *  cross-paths.' 

"  As  ever,  yours  most  truly  and  affectionately, 

"  Laura  Brandon." 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  301 


CHAPTER     XLV. 

"Early,  bright,  transient,  chaste  as  morning  dew, 
She  sparkled,  was  exhaled,  and  went  to  heaven." 

THE  servant-girl  had  been  sitting  near,  during  the 
time  that  Laura  had  been  writing,  engaged  with  her 
needle,  and  when  she  had  concluded  her  excited  and 
hastily  written  note,  she  handed  it  to  her,  telling  her  to 
give  it  to  no  one  but  "Sam  Brandon."  The  girl,  sympa- 
thizing deeply  with  her  young  mistress,  almost  flew  to 
"Sam,"  and  told  him  to  lose  no  time  in  delivering  it.  "Sam," 
thinking  that  the  success  of  the  whole  matter  depended 
upon  despatch,  left  the  gate  at  almost  full  speed. 

The  "  cross-paths  "  to  which  Laura  alluded  was  a  spot  well 
known  to  both  Henry  and  herself,  one  of  them  being  the 
path  which  led  from  Mr.  Robert  Brandon's  to  the  old 
school-house,  where  the  two  young  people  had  spent  so 
many  blissful  hours  in  their  early  days ;  the  other  was  the 
"herd-boy's"  path,  that  led  out  into  the  adjoining  prairies ; 
and  the  two  crossed  each  other,  at  acute  angles,  on  the 
outer  edge  of  a  small  but  rich  forest- wood,  some  three  or 
four  hundred  yards  from  Mr.  Brandon's  house.  At  the 
immediate  crossing  stood  an  old  oak,  remarkable  for  its 
size  and  symmetry.  Directly  beyond,  lay  spread  out  a 
broad  and  beautiful  prairie,  as  a  bright  sea  of  gold,  with 
a  shore-tinge  of  autumn  green.  The  evening  was  still,  and 
calm,  and  beautiful.  The  long,  yellow  rays  of  coming 
winter  glanced  through  the  old  oak's  top,  and  bathed  the 
prairie  beyond  with  a  flood  of  soft,  yellow  light,  while 
the  gentlast  breath  of  air  only  trembled  the  purpling  leaf, 
as  if  to  welcome  to  a  court  of  sadness  the  lovely  girl  whom 
it  expected  there. 

At  the  appointed  hour  Laura  was  there,  her  waiting- 
26 


302  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

maid  having  attended  her  to  a  point  in  sight,  and  was  to 
remain  there  until  she  returned.  She  had  already  been 
under  the  tree  for  some  minutes,  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
Henry  Brandon  ;  he,  however,  came  up  by  rather  an  un- 
usual direction,  and  seeing  her  there  at  some  distance  off, 
had  lighted  from  his  horse  and  came  walking  up,  and  was 
near  her  without  her  discovering  his  approach. 

Laura  was  not  looking  for  him  from  that  direction,  but 
stood  intently  looking  for  him  from  another.  She  had  not 
heard  from  him,  but  certainly  knew  he  would  be  there. 

She  was  dressed  in  a  rich  flowing  black  silk,  with  snow- 
white  collar  and  cuffs ;  and  having  taken  off  her  bonnet, 
stood,  rather  swinging  it  by  the  strings  and  veil,  as  she 
gently  leaned  against  the  body  of  the  tree.  Henry  paused 
in  his  advance  just  before  reaching  her,  and  was  struck 
with  her  changed  appearance,  yet  thought  he  had  never 
seen  a  more  lovely  picture ;  her  dark,  glossy  hair  hung 
loosely  but  elegantly  at  the  sides  of  her  face ;  her  complexion 
was  almost  transparently  clear  —  seeming  to  have  lost  all 
the  grossness  of  earth  —  with  only  the  softest  hectic  flush 
upon  her  cheek,  adding  to  her  almost  heavenly  beauty.  As 
she  stood  under  the  wide  branches  of  the  old  monarch  of 
the  woods,  that  stood  immediately  at  the  crossing,  she  looked 
more  like  a  Dryad,  wrought  out  in  the  highest  sculpture  of 
Grecian  art,  or  some  chaste  statue  of  love  and  beauty,  from 
an  angel's  hand,  than  any  real,  living  thing  of  earth. 

Henry  making  a  slight  noise  to  attract  her  attention,  she 
turned  with  some  surprise,  but  instantly  stepped  to  meet 
him,  and  offered  him  her  hand,  which  he  accepted  very 
affectionately,  but  without  being  able  to  speak. 

Laura  was  the  first  to  break  silence,  by  saying : 

*'  Cousin,  I  am  only  too  happy  to  see  you  once  more ; 
but  fear  you  will  think  the  request  to  meet  me  here  a  sin- 
gular one,  at  least." 

"  No,  Laura,"  he  replied ;  "  you  have  yet  to  do  your  first 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  303 

exceptioual  act,  though  some  for  which  I  may  have  cause 
to  reproach  you." 

"  Your  words  bring  me  a  strange  happiness,  cousin,  even 
if  a  barren  one,  in  spite  of  your  reproof.  I  had  not  hoped 
Bo  much,  and  feared  more." 

"No;  in  regard  to  anything  you  have  ever  done,  my 
only  feeling  is  regret." 

"  If  '  regret '  is  all  you  have  felt,  I  can  assure  you  that 
your  sufferings  are  not  as  mine  have  been," 

"Yours,  Laura,  were  self-inflicted,  from  which  you 
could  have  escaped  at  any  moment ;  mine  were  different, 
imposed  upon  me." 

"  You  do  me  injustice,  cousin  ;  there  has  been,  and  is,  less 
escape  for  me  than  for  yourself—  for  instance,  even  now, 
you  declare  your  intention  to  leave  the  scenes  of  these 
great  heart -troubles;  and  mixing  with,  and  becoming  a 
part  of  the  great  outside  world,  will  of  course,  to  some 
extent,  forget  those  you  leave  behind.  With  me  the  situ- 
ation is  the  reverse.  /  cannot  go ;  but  must  remain,  and  every 
day,  every  hour,  be  brought  in  association  with  persons, 
places,  and  a  thousand  little  nameless  events,  relating  both 
to  you,  and  the  love  which  we  so  long  have  borne  to  each 
other,"  then  hesitating  for  a  moment,  continued,  "and 
which  I  shall  ever  bear  to  you." 

Taking  her  by  the  hand  as  she  uttered  these  words,  he 
said:  "Laura!  Laura!  this  is  really  too  much  to  bear, 
and  appears  to  me  to  be  either  trifling  or  insanity  —  more 
than  that  affection  of  which  you  speak.  What  possible 
manner  of  feeling  is  that  which  can  crush  itself  and 
another  too  ?  It  is  only  that  which  has  ever  cast  a  shadow 
upon  the  clear  blue  sky,  which  floats  upon  its  bosom  — 
your  name  and  love,  only  that  I  do  assure  you." 

At  these  remarks,  Laura's  eyes  brightened  with  an  al- 
most celestial  light,  and  she  asked  in  reply : 

"  Oh,  cousin !  cousin  I  after  all  that  I  have  said  to  you, 


304  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

and  after  all  that  I  have  endured  and  am  still  enduring, 
can  you  find  it  in  your  breast  to  doubt  me  ?  " 

"  No,  I  cannot ;  nor  do  I  doubt  you  in  anything  ;  but  I 
must  confess  that  I  do  not  comprehend  this  feeling  of  ex- 
treme obedience,  with  which  you  have  blighted  your  own 
happiness  as  well  as  mine.  Does  your  mother  know  the 
true  condition  of  your  heart,  and  still  oppose  you  ?  " 

"IS'o,  she  does  not;  cannot  —  never  can  —  nor  do  you. 
Keither  of  you  can  conceive  the  power  of  a  human  heart 
to  crush  itself  to  a  sense  of  duty  and  family  happiness.  She 
does  not  comprehend  that  I  can  sacrifice  myself  to  an 
obedience  of  parental  authority.  Nor  can  you,  that  I  can 
still  be  true  to  a  feeling,  but  never  gratify  it.  Yet  I  have 
done  —  am  doing  both." 

"Laura,  you  have  allowed  some  sort  of  religious  ab- 
straction to  carry  you  beyond  the  bounds  of  human  reason, 
into  the  mystic  realms  of  infatuation.  Rationally,  either 
aunt's  prejudices  should  be  disregarded,  or  you  should 
discard  all  preference  and  feeling  for  me.  You  know  her, 
you  know  me,  you  know  yourself,  and  in  justice  to  all 
should  take  a  different  stand." 

"  You  do  not  mean  that  I  should  forget  you  ?  "  she  re- 
plied ;  looking  a  little  startled,  and  shrinking  back. 

"  No,  I  do  not ;  nor  is  there  any  demand  on  earth  that 
I  could  meet,  which  I  would  not  meet,  to  remove  all  ob- 
stacles to  our  mutual  happiness.  After  that,  I  would  take 
the  cause  in  my  own  keeping ;  and  as  I  am  willing  to  do 
this,  so  should  you  be." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  imply  some  special  act  on  my  part  ?  '* 
she  asked  eagerly,  supposing  he  had  some  proposition  to 
make. 

"  To  any  other  girl  I  ever  knew,  I  might  reply :  to  you 
I  cannot ;  but  this  I  may  say,  that  could  I  have  known  only 
one  year  since,  what  the  present  would  be,  all  of  this  sorrow 
could  have  been  avoided :  as  I  did  not,  it  is  too  late  to  yield 


B  I,  ()  O  M     A  N  D     B  K  I  E  R  .  305 

to  regrets  ;  and  I  can  further  say,  that  should  you  pei-sist 
in  your  present  course,  I  cannot  see  the  end  —  the  future 
grows  darker  as  I  go,  and  in  a  few  days  I  will  leave  the 
causes  to  themselves  forever !  and  yet  I  can  see  no  refuge  from 
the  fate  that  awaits  us  —  darkness  and  despair  for  you,  and 
over  me  there  rests  a  cloud  that  threatens  a  never-ceasing 
sorrow.  We  must  either  endeavor  to  retrace  our  steps,  or 
go  forward.     Do  you  understand  me  ?" 

"Perhaps  I  do  not;  but,  oh!  cousin!  speak  not  thus  — 
oh !  speak  it  not  —  do  not  all  crush  this  aching  heart,  before 
its  life  is  gone  —  only  say  what  I  can  do  —  a  poor,  weak 
girl  can  do,  to  shield  you  from  this  grief;  and  I  will  throw 
my  peace,  my  happiness,  ay!  if  need  be,  my  life,  my  very 
soul,  into  the  scale  to  weigh  against  it ! " 

"  Spoken  like  a  true  woman,  as  you  are,  Laura."  Then 
taking  her  by  the  hand,  said :  "  And  now,  after  all  that  I  have 
said,  and  am  willing  to  perform,  there  is  but  the  one  course 
for  us  to  pursue— adopt  that,  and  these  murky  skies  will 
clear  away  that  now  overcast  our  hopes;"  and  then  in  tones 
which  showed  he  felt  all  the  responsibility  of  the  position 
which  he  was  about  to  ask  her  to  assume,  he  continued  : 
"  Only  promise  me,  Laura,  that  against  all  the  world  you 
will  be  my  wife." 

At  this  proposition  the  color  left  her  cheek ;  and  rising 
before  him  with  a  gentle  but  resolute  majesty,  to  her  full 
height,  with  her  soft  eye  beaming  steadily  but  aflectionately 
upon  him,  she  replied  with  a  low  but  distinct  utterance : 

'"  Could  I  have  ever  availed  myself  of  such  a  proposition, 
it  is  now  too  late — my  life  is  only  suspended  by  a  thread." 

"  Yet  you  are  as  dear  to  me,  Laura,  as  you  ever  were 
in  the  most  joyous  hours  of  bloom  and  health ;  ay  !  even 
dearer  for  your  weakness." 

"  Thank  you,  cousin,  you  only  increase  my  obligations 
to  you ;  but  let  me  say  once  for  all,  as  we  may  never  meet 
again,  that  if  it  can  be  so,  my  love  for  you  is  more  than 
26* 


306  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

mortal,  yet  a  mortal  power  has  controlled  it.  My  mother 
did  not  yield  when  she  might,  now  't  is  needless,  and  I  have 
long  since  ceased  to  ask  it ;  therefore,  remember  what  I 
tell  you  —  for  I  know  and  feel  it,  and  say  it  calmly 
too,  that  the  evening  of  my  life  draws  nigh  —  the  sun  is 
already  sinking  to  its  setting  hour,  and  throws  its  long 
dreamy  shadows  on  this  wasting  form  ;  yet  my  undying  love 
is  yours,  and  while  on  earth  only  can  be  yours !  intenser 
and  purer  too,  in  its  hopeless,  helpless  despair,  than  in  its 
roseate  flush  of  joy,  and  strength,  and  hope ;  and  this  I 
further  tell  you,  that  wander  whither  you  will,  and  do  as 
you  may,  I  yet  do  know  your  princely  mind  and  royal 
heart,  and  will  forever  know  them ;  and  shoot  as  wildly, 
madly,  as  you  dare,  across  the  course  of  other  men,  and  the 
world's  despotic  power,  you  will  not!  cannot!  shall  not 
FALL !  On  earth  I  still  will  follow  you ;  in  heaven  even, 
with  the  angels  there,  I  still  will  be  your  light,  your  love, 
your  guardian,  and  your  star  of  destiny !  Dearer  to  me 
than  all  else  beside,  in  this  sad  world,  yet  I  can  never 
be  your  wife  on  earth  !  I  release  you  —  farewell  !  " 
Fainting,  she  fell  lifeless  in  his  arms.  They  never  met 
again. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  307 


THE    INTERLUDE. 

"'T  was  but  for  a  raoraent,  and  yet  in  that  time 
She  crowded  th'  impressions  of  many  an  hour: 
Her  eye  had  a  glow,  like  the  sun  of  her  clime, 
Which  waked  every  feeling  at  once  into  flower ! " 

IT  ^vill  be  remembered  that  Laura  Brandon  had  fainted, 
and  fallen  into  the  arms  of  Henry  Brandon,  as  she  told 
him  that  she  could  never  be  his  wife.  Her  waiting-maid 
came  up  in  an  instant,  and  by  gentle  manipulations  she 
was  restored  to  consciousness.  Supporting  her  on  either 
side,  they  returned  with  her  to  the  house ;  not  a  word  was 
spoken  by  either,  but  when  they  reached  the  gate,  Laura 
merely  remarked,  in  tones  scarcely  above  a  whisper,  that 
she  could  walk  alone.  Henry  then  kissed  her  livid  lips, 
and  bid  her  farew^ell  —  forever ! 

Laura  was  assisted  immediately  to  her  own  chamber  by 
her  maid,  and  that  evening,  not  going  down  to  tea,  simply 
sent  word  that  she  would  not  be  present. 

She  was  taken  with  a  fever,  and  continued  to  be  confined 
from  it  for  several  weeks,  but  never  breathed  it  that  she 
had  had  an  interview  with  her  cousin  Henry. 

Eventually  recovering  from  the  attack,  she  yet  never  re- 
gained her  strength,  or  became  what  she  had  been,  but 
gradually  grew  weaker,  until  she  sank  into  being  a  con- 
firmed invalid,  seldom  leaving  her  room,  and  only  then  in 
some  short  ride  for  recreation.  This  lasted  for  nearly  two 
years,  when,  without  even  having  let  the  name  of  Henry 
Brandon  escape  her  lips,  she  sank  to  a  peaceful  rest. 

She  had  long  known  that  her  life  was  ebbing  away ;  and 
as  a  beautiful  star  of  early  morning,  whose  soft  beams  fade 
away  into  the  greater  light  of  day,  so  this  gentle  girl,  who 
had  ever  been  a  joy,  a  sweet  happiness,  and  a  light  to  her- 
self and  to  others,  faded  from  the  bright  scenes  of  human 


308  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

life,  into  the  grander,  but  more  mild  effulgence  of  eternity. 
Her  love  for  Henry  Brandon,  as  she  said  herself,  had  been 
almost  more  than  mortal ;  and  mortal  sense  and  feeling 
was  not  a  fit  tribunal  before  which  could  be  arraigned  its 
delicate,  spiritual  emotion.  Love,  to  her,  was  an  apotheosis 
of  the  object  to  which  her  heart  had  given  its  whole  devo- 
tion ;  a  shrinking  tenderness  and  sacredness  of  adoration, 
which,  once  blighted,  revives  no  more  on  earth,  and  only  re- 
appears beyond  the  shores  of  time,  as  part  of  heaven  itself. 

To  an  exquisite  social  organization,  she  added  as  exqui- 
site a  delicacy  of  intellect  —  and  the  two  commingling,  as 
it  were,  with  an  almost  spiritual  beauty  of  person,  made 
such  a  being  as  is  rarely  met  with  in  the  walks  of  human 
life ;  and  her  way  from  earth  to  heaven  glowed  with  the 
constant  light  of  love,  and  truth,  and  virtue.  Her  death 
was  a  lovely  picture  of  her  life  —  drawn  in  most  delicate 
lines,  and  tinted  with  the  softest  brush;  calm,  peaceful, 
fearless,  and  resigned,  yet  glowing,  and  hopeful,  and  lovely. 

Her  last  words  were  to  Lucy,  who,  with  her  mother,  was 
at  her  bedside;  making  an  effort,  she  reached  out  her  hand, 
and  with  eyes  beaming  with  a  steady,  but  a  soft,  unearthly 
brightness,  she  said,  in  low  but  well-articulated  words: 
"  Lucy  —  Cousin  Henry  Brandon  —  Let  us  meet  again  — 
Farewell,"  and  closed  her  invalid  life,  with  a  broken 

HEART. 

Henry  Brandon,  in  accordance  with  the  purpose  which 
he  had  formed  previous  to  his  last  meeting  with  Laura, 
and  which  he  had  then  announced  to  her,  left  the  State 
only  a  few  days  after,  rather  intending  to  make  the  tour 
of  Europe.  But  meeting  with  some  old  college  friends  at 
New  Orleans,  who  were  preparing  for  a  hunting  excursion 
to  the  extreme  West,  he  was  persuaded  to  change  his 
purpose,  and  to  accompany  them.  After  spending  several 
weeks  in  the  prairies  of  Texas,  he  returned  to  Little  Rock, 
and  made  that  place  his  headquarters,  from  which  he  radi- 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  309 

ated  on  many  a  roving,  and  to  be  confessed,  idle  excursion 
in  the  country  round  about. 

Little  Hock  at  this  time  presented  many  attractive  fea- 
tures, for  which  it  neither  then  nor  since  has  had  credit 
abroad.  It  had  long  been  one  of  the  principal  frontier 
military  posts  of  the  Government,  and  officers  of  different 
grades,  with  their  families,  had  made  the  place  their  tem- 
porary home ;  these,  together  with  young  officers  without 
families,  and  with  the  citizens  of  the  place,  made  society 
there  remarkable,  both  for  its  elegant  abandon  and  culti- 
vation. At  the  time  we  speak  of,  it  possessed  all  the 
charms  of  a  gay  little  capital,  and  a  bright  little  society 
to  itself.  ^Men  of  genius  and  education  were  there  engaged 
in  civic  pursuits  and  professions,  whose  families  and  them- 
selves would  have  jcontributed  to  the  refinement  of  social 
life  in  any  part  of  the  world,  and  would  have  ornamented 
life  in  any  of  its  coteries.  The  young  men  and  young 
girls  who  had  grown  up  there,  all  gave  to  its  society  a 
freshness,  zest,  and  friendship,  seldom  to  be  found,  and 
peculiarly  acceptable  to  Henry  Brandon  at  that  particular 
time.  He  had  taken  rooms  at  the  then  fashionable  hotel, 
"The  Anthony  House,"  and  with  the  society  we  have 
spoken  of,  he  passed  much  of  his  time,  as  an  apparently 
gay  idler,  and  felt,  even  as  the  place  itself  was,  shut  off 
from  all  the  unpleasant  events  of  his  own  home.  To  the 
citizens,  in  the  course  of  a  three-years  quasi  residence,  he 
became  a  popular  and  an  almost  necessary  feature  of  their 
social  intercourse. 

"Sam  Brandon,"  who  was  with  him  as  body-servant,  was 
quite  as  popular  in  his  own  sphere  as  his  master,  and  was 
really  the  servant  of  every  one  who  wished  his  attentions. 

To  the  rude  people  of  the  more  frontier  settlements, 
among  whom  he  made  frequent  expeditions  for  hunting 
and  for  purposes  of  amusement,  Henry  was  familiarly  and 
pleasantly  known.     His  agreeable  manners,  richness  of 


310  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

dress,  and  affluent  habits  made  him  an  object  of  interest, 
and  they  welcomed  his  presence  with  unreserved  hospi- 
tality to  their  homes  and  families. 

War  was  declared  against  Mexico  only  a  few  months 
after  fixing  his  residence  at  Little  Kock,  when  he  joined 
the  regiment  of  Governor  Yell,  and  was  chosen  a  lieuten- 
ant of  one  of  the  companies.  At  Buena  Vista  he  was 
wounded,  but  a  few  minutes  before  the  fall  of  Colonel 
Yell,  and  was  near  him  at  the  time.  As  soon  as  he  suf- 
ficiently recovered  to  travel,  he  returned  to  Little  Rocky 
somewhat  in  advance  of  his  regiment,  but  before  the  troops 
of  General  Taylor  were  ordered  round  to  Vera  Cruz. 
Here  again  he  soon  entered  upon  his  same  kind  of  aimless 
life,  with  occasional  trips  abroad,  but  never  to  Alabama, 
whither  his  mother  and  sister  were  ever  insisting  upon  his 
returning.  He  had  heard  all  the  circumstances  of  Laura's 
'death,  and  so  far  from  inducing  him  to  return,  it  only 
made  him  more  determined  to  remain  away.  Such  had 
still  been  his  afl^ection  for  her,  and  his  regret  for  her  death. 

He  had  now  been  absent  from  home  over  three  years, 
when  an  apparent  accident — as  it  really  was  —  changed 
the  whole  tenor  of  his  life  and  feelings,  and  carried  him 
back  to  his  native  State. 

On  one  of  such  excursions  as  we  have  described  his 
taking,  occasionally,  with  only  Sam  Brandon  for  company, 
he  was  at  Memphis,  and,  walking  along  one  of  its  main 
streets,  not  of  business,  but  of  private  residences,  there 
came  meeting  him  a  young  girl,  richly  dressed,  tall,  and 
graceful  in  her  walk,  but  with  the  face  partially  concealed 
by  her  veil.  He  passed  her,  without  further  remark  than 
the  simple  facts  called  for,  when  Sam  Brandon,  who  was 
with  him,  stepped  quickly  to  his  side,  and  said :  "  Mass 
Henry,  that  young  lady  we  met  was  ole  Mass  Gray's 
daughter  back  in  Alabama.     I  saw  her  face  good,  sir." 

Henry  turned  immediately,  and  thought  he  did  indeed 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  311 

recognize  her  figure  and  walk,  though  measurably  con- 
cealed by  her  wrappings.  At  the  hazard  of  appearing 
rude,4ie  retraced  his  steps,  with  a  view,  if  possible,  to  get 
the  sight  of  her  face ;  and  even  before  he  overtook  her,  he 
was  satisfied  of  the  identity,  and  confident  that,  if  he 
could  get  the  slightest  glimpse  of  her  face,  he  would  rec- 
ognize her,  if  indeed  it  should  prove  as  he  now  supposed, 
her  features  being  well  fixed  upon  his  memory,  from  asso- 
ciation with  the  amusing  events  of  the  happy  and  joyous 
day  of  their  first  acquaintance.  Coming  up  with  her,  he 
did  get  a  passing  glimpse  of  her  features,  and  at  once 
recognized  her.  Hesitating  at  the  apparent  rudeness  for 
a  moment,  he  as  quickly  recovered,  and  addressed  her : 

"  Will  Miss  Gray  permit  an  old  acquaintance  of  some 
years  back  to  recognize  her?"  said  he,  smiling  as  he  spoke. 

She  was  a  little  startled  at  the  suddenness  of  the  salu- 
tation, but  recognizing  him  in  an  instant,  sh*^  replied,  while 
looking  him  pleasantly  but  steadily  in  the  face: 

"  Why,  certainly,  Mr.  Brandon,  and  confess,  sir,  to  as 
great  pleasure  as  astonishment  in  meeting  you ;"  and  rather 
confusedly  continued  :  "  Where  are  you  —  where  —  " 

Brandon,  seeing  her  mixed  confusion  and  surprise,  said : 

"  I  see  your  perplexity,  and  your  wish  to  know  why  I 
am  here.  Miss.  I  can  only  answer  that,  since  we  last  met, 
I  have  gradually  degenerated  into  the  character  of  a  mere 
idle  rambler,  and  have  no  business  here  nor  elsewhere.  I 
therefore  cannot  answer  you  as  to  the  why  of  being  here, 
unless  you  will  excuse  me  for  saying  that  it  is  in  obedience 
to  some  destiny  which  I  am  not  prepared  to  interpret;  and 
my  stay,"  he  very  pleasantly  added,  "  may  regulate  itself 
by  your  own,  if  you  will  permit  it.  You  must  pardon  me 
for  saying  this,  as  you  are  the  only  person  I  have  met  from 
home  since  I  left  there.  I  have  not  seen  the  first  familiar 
face  from  there  before,  and  I  scarcely  know  how  I  can 
leave  vou." 


312  BLOOM    AND    BKIER. 

"  Thank  you,  sir ;  I  will  not  think  of  rejecting  so  agree- 
able a  proposition ;  and  I  shall  expect  you,  too,  as  you 
have  renewed  our  acquaintance,  to  tell  me  all  the  whys 
and  wherefores  of  youi'  singular,  self-imposed  exile." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  Miss,  for  your  interest,  and  for 
that  pleasant  privilege,  as  I  look  upon  it  as  such,  and  will 
take  all  pains  to  give  you  the  details  and  incidents  of  my 
life  for  the  last  three  or  four  years,  as  far  as  I  can  remem- 
ber them.  I  scarcely  think,  however,  I  can  crowd  the 
rehearsal  into  any  limited  period  of  time." 

"  Oh,  sir,  my  curiosity  is  now  excited,  and  I  will  endea- 
vor to  arrange  for  all  your  stories,  even  if  it  should  require 
a  *  thousand  and  one  nights,'  as  I  have  no  doubt  but  they 
will  be  quite  as  entertaining  as  those  of  the  Arabian 
princess." 

"  That,  indeed,  is  a  larger  liberality  than  I  had  looked  for, 
and  the  source  of  a  peculiar  pleasure  which  I  had  not 
expected  to  meet  with,  when  I  came  here  —  that  of  your 
society;  one,  too,  which  I  shall  be  tempted  to  protract, 
even  beyond  the  generous  bounds  you  have  already  assigned 
to  me." 

"  I  see,  ]Mr.  Brandon,  you  have  not  forgotten  your  early 
felicity  in  compliment,  even  if  you  have,  as  I  have  learned, 
been  sojourning  for  several  years  in  the  wilds  of  the  West." 

"No,  no;  I  hope  never  to  forget  it ;  indeed,  I  cannot,  so 
long  as  nature  will  continue  to  furnish  such  brilliant  sub- 
jects. But  let  me  thank  you  for  having  known,  even  indef- 
initely, of  my  whereabouts,  and  for  recognizing  me  this 
morning." 

"You  do  yourself  injustice,  sir,  if  you  suppose  that  a 
few  years  would  erase  your  name  from  a  young  lady's 
memory.     You  should  at  least  demand  a  lifetime." 

"My  fears  ran  counter  to  my  hopes.  Miss  Gray;  and 
your  implied  assurances  to  the  contrary,  however  face- 
tiously expressed,  are  most  gracious  to  my  feelings,  asso- 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  313 

ciated  as  those  memories  are  with  one  of  the  pleasantest 
days  of  my  life,  one  which  I  neither  have  nor  can  forget ; 
and  it  is  that  to  which  I  am  indebted  for  recognizing  you 
this  morning.  Your  features  have  ever  been  singularly 
impressed  on  my  memory." 

Evidently  pleased,  she  replied  : 

"^Ir.  Brandon,  your  manner  and  style  of  expression 
bring  back  more  vividly  to  my  mind  the  pleasing  incidents 
of  that  day  than  I  even  at  first  remembered  either  you  or 
them." 

Brandon  was  now  ^valking  slowly  at  her  side,  in  the 
direction  which  she  was  going  at  the  time  he  met  her,  and 
supposing  that  he  might  probably  be  interfering  with  her 
purposes,  asked  if  he  could  be  allowed  to  accompany  her 
further. 

"  Oh,  certainly.  I  have  only  been  making  a  morning 
call  upon  a  young  friend  of  mine,  and  am  now  returning 
to  the  *  Gayoso  House,'  where  I  stop  when  in  the  city." 

"Indeed!  I  am  happy  to  know  that  we  stop  at  the 
same  place,  and  am  sorry  that  I  had  not  met  you  before. 
I  will  accompany  you  thither,  if  pleasant  to  you.  May  I 
ask  who  is  with  you  from  Alabama?" 

"My  mother  and  father.  :My  mother  has  a  sister  near 
the  city,  and  they  visit  each  other  alternate  years.  This 
is  my  mother's  year  to  make  the  visit." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  that  you  were  absent  on  a  visit  here 
when  my  sister  was  married.  She  was  quite  disappointed 
in  not  having  you  there.  You  will  excuse  me  for  telling 
you  away  off  here,  and  at  this  distance  of  time  since,  but 
8he  was  quite  resolved  that  we  should  all  at  least  become 
better  acquainted,  if  nothing  more.  Young  girls,  you 
know,  will  bother  themselves  about  such  matters." 

"  Well,  I  have  to  regret  her  kind  intentions,  as  I,  per- 
haps, have  been  the  loser,"  she  replied,  laughingly.     "Our 
acquaintance  certainly  began  very  merrily." 
27 


314  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"And  so  auspiciously,  I  hope — at  least  appearing  so 
much  so,  that  7,  it  is,  who  must  be  considered  to  have  lost," 
he  rejoined,  laughingly. 

"  Let  us  divide,  then,  the  loss." 

"  Very  well,  and  unite  in  paying  the  losses  up,"  he 
replied,  again  laughing  at  the  quickness  of  his  conceit. 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  she,  smiling,  and  enjoying  his  little  quirk 
as  much  as  himself,  "  I  see  you  still  retain  your  capacity 
of  subtle  conversational  manoeuvring." 

"  I  was  only  fearful  that  it  was  too  plain.  You  must 
allow  me  another  trial  at  this  subtlety  of  which  you  speak." 

"  I  shall  not  promise  you.  I  discover,  Mr.  Brandon, 
you  have  not  lost  any  of  your  gallant  gayety,  either.  You 
certainly  have  not  been,  as  reported,  rambling  on  the  fron- 
tiers." 

"  I  shall  not  tell  you  my  story  yet,  but  will  reserve  it 
for  one  of  the  *  thousand  and  one '  audiences  which  you 
have  promised  me ;  but  in  regard  to  my  gayety,  I  think 
you  are  right  —  that  is  constitutional  ;  as  there  have  hap- 
pened some  sad  events,  since  we  met,  well  calculated  to 
make  me  feel  anything  but  gay,  whenever  I  pause  to 
think." 

At  once  recollecting  the  sad  story  of  Laura  Brandon, 
and  of  course  supposing  that  his  remark  referred  to  that, 
she  replied : 

"Yes,  I  remember  Miss  Laura  Brandon  was  with  us 
that  day ;  and  I  will  never  forget  the  joy  of  her  face,  and 
the  impression  it  made  upon  me.  I  can  even  now  recall, 
with  perfect  distinctness,  the  calm  sweetness  of  her  expres- 
sion, the  exquisite  beauty  of  her  conversation,  and  the 
gentle  playfulness  of  her  manners.  And  strange  it  is,  too, 
as  I  never  met  with  her  again." 

"  She  was  all  that  you  say,  with  a  thousand  other  name- 
less virtues,  that  passed  unobserved  except  to  those  who 
knew  her." 


BLOOM     AND     BKIER.  315 

They  had  now  reached  the  ladies'  entrance  to  the  "  Ga- 
yoso,"  and  Brandon  hesitated  for  a  moment,  as  if  not  know- 
ing whether  to  ask  her  to  the  parlor  or  not,  when  she 
asked: 

"AVill  you  not  walk  up  to  the  parlor,  Mr.  Brandon?" 

"  With  pleasure.  Miss,  if  you  have  the  leisure?  " 

He  accordingly  accompanied  her  there,  where  the  con- 
versation was  continued. 

"  Will  you  now  permit  me,  ^liss  Gray,  to  display  the 
same  interest  in  your  life  for  the  last  few  years,  which  you 
evinced  in  mine,  so  far  as  to  ask  its  incidents?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  as  far,  at  least,  as  giving  you  the  head-notes, 
which  are  very  few,  while  the  details  would  be  endless. 
You  know  a  man's  and  a  woman's  life  are  very  different : 
one  is  all  leading-points,  while  the  other  is  all  minutise  — 
small  details.     When  shall  we  begin  our  mutual  stories  ?  " 

"  Immediately,  my  impatience  says ;  but  let  me  first  ask 
how  long  your  stay  will  be  in  the  city  ?  " 

"  Only  a  few  days  longer,  at  this  time.  I  am  here  with 
some  cousins  —  a  young  gentleman  and  a  young  girl  —  on 
a  mere  pleasure-trip,  more  for  the  purpose  of  attending  the 
Theatre,  than  for  any  other  purpose  that  I  can  describe ; 
and  after  some  little  further  enjoyment  in  that  direction, 
we  will  leave  for  the  countr}\" 

"  The  Theatre !  has  Mr.  Gray  relaxed  in  his  Methodism 
to  that  extent?" 

"No  ;  I  cannot  say  that  he  has  very  greatly  relaxed  ;  but 
does  not  positively  object,  as  he  knows  that  I  generally  find 
some  means  of  getting  my  way.  I  tell  him,  too,  that  I  will 
probably  adopt  his  views  of  such  things,  when  I  get  to  be 
Sifull  Methodist." 

"  You  have  never  then  risen  to  the  austere  dignity  of  a 
'full  fellowship'  —  only  a  protracted  case  of  probation  — 
at  liberty  to  fall  whenever  occasion  may  call  for  it?  " 
,     "  A  pretty  fair  description ;  and  did  you  not  exact  a  half 


316  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

promise  of  me,  as  we  parted  at  Gregory's  Spring,  to  become 
*a  church  woman/  as  you  expressed  it  —  do  you  remem- 
ber?" 

•  "Yes,  very  well,"  said  he,  smiling;  "but  then  I  did  not 
think  you  would  observe  it  so  well.  I  feel  quite  compli- 
mented." 

"Oh!  I  shall  not  acknowledge  that  it  was  to  compliment 
you  ;  but  it  is  really  so,  that  I  have  never  progressed  with  my 
Methodism  from  that  day,  and  I  have  sometimes,  indeed, 
blamed  you  jor  it.  You  see  now,  I  probably  have  thought 
of  you  and  your  mischievous  expressions  and  conversation, 
when  you  had  all  forgotten  your  half-proselyted  Episco- 
palian." 

"  No,  no ;  I  have  never  forgotten  you ;  but  our  paths 
diverged  so  widely,  that  I  had  not  the  opportunity  to  culti- 
vate the  good  seed  I  had  sown.  There  are  few  young  per- 
sons I  have  thought  of  so  often,  and  so  pleasantly." 

"  You  will  at  least  give  me  credit  for  keeping  my  pro- 
mise more  nighly  than  you  did  yours.  Do  you  remember 
that  you  promised  to  come  over  to  our  '  meeting-house,'  as 
you  called  our  church,  and  had  me  looking  for  you  with  the 
greatest  anxiety,  only  to  be  disappointed?" 

"Yes,  I  will  give  you  the  credit  you  ask;  and  as  to  my 
promise,  it  only  has  a  heavily  accumulated  interest,  all  of 
which,  it  now  occurs  to  me,  I  will  pay  to  the  uttermost 
demand,  before  the  moons  of  another  year  shall  come  and 
go.     What  says  Miss  Gray  to  taking  that  promise?  " 

"  Ah !  so  far  from  refusing,  I  shall  even  make  the  de- 
mand that  you  do  most  honestly  comply  —  particularly  as 
I  have  a  very  handsome  young  lady -cousin  going  home 
with  me  to  spend  the  summer ;  and  I  promise  that  your 
visits  will  not  only  be  received  in  payment  of  the  old  de- 
mand, but  with  great  pleasure  by  us  both  on  new  account. 
I  must  make  you  acquainted  with  her." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you ;  and  shall  not  only  take  great 


BLOOM     AND    BRIER.        '  317 

pleasure  in  visiting  both  the  cousins  in  Alabama,  but  if 
they  permit  me,  will  take  an  interest  in  their  amusements 
here  —  what  says  this  cousin  to  that  ?  " 

"I  shall  not  refuse  that  either,  Mr.  Brandon ;  if  from  no 
other  feeling  than  that  of  vanity.  The  attentions  of  an 
Alabamian,  so  distinguished  in  appearance,  and  so  distin- 
guished, too,  for  his  aristocratic  eccentricity,  are  not  to  be 
slighted."  Paying  him  these  compliments  half  jokingly,  she 
continued:  "And  I  am  more  than  half  disposed  to  go 
further,  and  even  claim  you  for  the  time  I  remain  here,  as 
a  matter  of  State  pride." 

With  a  dashing,  bantering  sort  of  gallantry,  Brandon 
gayly  replied : 

"  You  may  extend  your  demand.  Miss  Gray,  to  your  stay 
in  any  State." 

With  an  affected  coquetry,  she  replied : 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Brandon;  but  think  I  can  only 
consent  to  the  acceptance  of  a  part  of  your  generous  offer, 
and  confine  the  pleasure  to  my  stay  in  this  city." 

"  Ah!  perhaps  I  am  to  understand  your  qualified  accept- 
ance, as  a  rejection  of  my  kind  and  entire  proposition." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  by  no  m.eans.  I  assure  you,  only  a  desire  of 
giving  you  room  to  go  no  further  than  you  w^ish.  No,  sir; 
I  cannot  release  you,"  she  answered,  with  a  merry  laugh. 

"That  Ls  a  very  satisfactory  solution.  I  then  may 
extend  my  own  terms,  even  to  attending  you  back  to 
Alabama?" 

"  All  badinage  aside,  that  would  be  very  delightful,  if 
for  nothing  else,  than  in  the  idea  of  restoring  the  prodigal 
son  to  his  mother  and  friends." 

"  Prodigal  son  !  indeed  ;  can't  I  force  you  to  some  other 
acknowledgment  ?  " 

"  No,  not  just  now;  I  may  at  some  future  day." 

The  first  gong  now  rang,  and  Brandon  rose  to  let  her 
leave  the  parlor ;  but  asking  if  he  might  have  the  pleasure 
27* 


318  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

of  meeting  her  there  again,  for  the  purpose  of  attending 
her  to  the  dining-room. 

"With  pleasure,  sir,"  she  replied ;  and  withdrew  to  make 
preparations  for  dinner. 

At  this  late  day  it  will  not  be  required  of  me  to  give 
further  details  of  the  intercourse  between  Henry  Brandon 
and  Miss  Gray ;  suffice  it,  that  they  were  married  in  the 
following  spring.  Her  father  gave  them  a  plantation, 
almost  centrally  situated  between  Brandon's  own  old  home, 
(where  Hunter  now  resided,)  himself,  and  Dr.  Wilton,  and 
surrounded  by  many  other  very  excellent  neighbors  and 
gentlemen. 

Brandon  devoted  himself  to  planting,  which  he  pros- 
ecuted with  great  success  for  many  years,  living  in  great 
elegance,  and  dispensing  a  most  generous  hospitality. 
Between  his  plantation,  books,  and  friends,  his  life  was 
passing  along  in  perfect  smoothness,  until  the  question  of 
secession  was  raised,  which  he  plainly  saw  was  to  result  in  the 
defeat  of  every  point  which  it  was  intended  to  protect ;  and 
then  for  the  first  time  entered  the  political  arena,  as  candi- 
date for  the  State  Convention,  which  was  to  decide  this 
question.  He  bitterly  opposed  it ;  but  was  unable  to  stem 
the  current  which  now  strongly  set  in,  from  the  affirmative 
side. 

Hunter  had  continued  to  reside  on  his  plantation,  and  at 
the  time  of  secession  was  very  wealthy.  He  always  con- 
tinued to  be  a  close  student,  and  took  much  interest  in 
public  affairs,  and  had  been  repeatedly  elected  to  the  Legis- 
lature, either  as  representative  or  senator.  He,  also,  had 
most  earnestly  opposed  secession ;  but,  unlike  Brandon,  he 
never  became  reconciled  to  the  measure  —  while  the  former 
immediately  entered  the  army,  and  remained  in  it  until  after 
the  battle  of  Gettysburg. 

Mr.  Campbell  had  become  one  of  the  leading  men  of  the 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  319 

State.  Though  not  a  brilliant  man,  he  had  yet  risen  to  a 
very  fine  position,  both  as  a  lawyer  and  politician ;  and 
had  thoroughly  identified  himself  with  the  measure  of 
secession,  and  went  immediately  into  the  army  on  the  first 
call  for  troops. 

When  the  State  of  Alabama  seceded,  she  was  in  the  very 
highest  condition  of  agricultural  prosperity ;  her  people 
were  happy  and  contented  ;  her  homes  gave  every  indi- 
cation of  elegance,  abundance,  and  order ;  her  labor  was 
ample,  well  organized,  well  provided  and  cared  for,  and 
peaceful,  and  satisfied. 

Let  the  contrast  explain  the  nature  of  secession,  while 
it  presents  the  true  character  of  Republican  government. 


PART    II. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  To  be,  or  not  to  be  ?  that  is  the  question  : 
Whether  't  is  nobler  in  the  mind,  to  suffer 
The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune, 
Or  to  take  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles." 

THE  author  need  not  be  told  that  he  violates  all  the 
established  rules  of  author-craft,  in  allowing  nearly  — 
years  to  elapse  between  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  story, 
which  he  has  promised  to  relate.  He  is  perfectly  aw^are 
that  his  work  is  not  secundum  artem,  that  is,  according  to 
the  laws  of  the  critics,  yet  he  has  no  fears,  deprecating  no 
censure,  nor  courting  any  favor — growing  bolder  even  as 
he  goes. 

"  Bravo  ! "  quoth  the  critics ;  "  now,  boaster,  let 's  have 
fewer  words  and  more  performance  toward  this  defiant 
violation  of  our  power  and  law^s — let's  see  thee  try  the 
strength  of  the  bulwarks  and  battlements  that  protect  the 
sacred  art  of  book-writing." 

"  And  bravo  for  thee!  "  quoths  the  author ;  "  and  now  that 
our  blades  are  drawn,  and  the  scabbards  thrown  away, 
there's  nothing  to  do  but  come  to  time,  and  at  it.  Let  the 
strong  help  themselves,  and  God  help  the  weak." 

Then  go  forth,  my  book,  neither  fearing,  nor  caring. 

A  novel!  —  and  what's  a  novel?  but  the  ideal  repre- 
sentation of  human  life,  as  the  author  believes  it  to  have  been, 
or  to  be.  The  type  of  some  one  human  life  or  more,  and 
nothing  but  a  prurient  itching  for  small  details  would 
demand  a  consecutive  narrative,  w^here  there  is  nothing  to 
relate.     Therefore,  good  reader,  it  is  my  design  to  leap  over 

320^ 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  321 

all  intermediate  events  in  the  lives  of  our  old  friends,  in  Part 
First  of  our  story,  and  come  at  once  to  the  concluding  scenes. 

The  present  fallen  condition  of  the  South,  from  its  once 
proud  eminence,  so  far  from  being  a  source  of  shame  to  her 
people,  is  her  highest  title  to  .immortal  fame  ;  and  clothing 
itself  in  all  the  noblest  adornments  of  chivalry,  she  scorn- 
fully rebukes  the  truculence  of  the  conqueror,  even  in  her 
powerless  but  fearless  sorrow. 

In  her  lineage,  her  character,  her  intellect,  her  institu- 
tions, and  her  wealth,  she  stood  boldly  before  the  world, 
the  bright  cynosure  of  its  envious  gaze ;  and  from  it  never 
fell,  till  her  shield  was  pierced  by  a  shaft  from  every  nation 
of  the  earth,  and  now  lies  like  a  "  warrior  taking  his  rest," 
shrouded  with  a  spear  from  every  armory  of  the  world. 

Her  grand  old  life  in  the  past,  the  phases  which  fore- 
shadowed her  overthrow,  her  subsequent  chivalry,  vicissi- 
tude, and  misfortune,  are  all  the  property  of  the  historian, 
and  not  of  the  novelist,  and  are  already  traced  by  the 
styles  of  time  on  the  illuminated  pages  of  eternity;  while 
the  mingling  light  of  a  dazzling  glory,  and  a  tenderer  grief 
will  ever  be  brightly  reflected  from  the  jewelled  diadem 
which  her  gallantry  has  placed  upon  her  brow. 

The  intervening  years  between  that  period  at  which  we 
left  off  our  story,  and  that  at  which  we  see  proper  to  resume 
it,  were  passed  by  our  former  acquaintances,  much  after  the 
usual  fashion  of  Southern  life,  making  such  allowances  for 
the  accidents  of  human  existence,  as  may  be  supposed  to 
occur  in  that  length  of  time. 

Great  prosperity,  and  perfect  peace  in  its  social,  domestic, 
and  political  history,  marked  their  course,  and  yet  there 
were  causes  at  work  which,  though  they  did  not  appear  on 
the  surface,  were  destined  to  destroy  all  of  this  at  no  distant 
period.  A  pseudo-moral  party,  marching  under  the  colors 
of  emancipation,  bearing  along  every  symbol  of  earnest 


322  BLOOM     AXD     BRIER. 

philanthropy  before  it,  with  a  frenzy  only  equalled  by  the 
early  crusades  —  came  to  the  rescue  f  of  the  African  slave, 
from  the  crxiel  grasp  of  him,  who  alone  had  civilized  him. 
Organizing  under  the  constructions  and  influence  of  that 
fanatical,  fatal,  but  senseless  sciolism  of  an  "  irrepressible 
conflict,"  in  American  organization  and  interests;  and  pre- 
tending at  the  same  time,  to  be  the  only  true  representative 
of  Northern  sentiment  and  feeling  —  it  gradually  acquired 
the  position  of  holding  the  balance  of  power  between  the 
two  leading  national  parties  in  the  Northern  States,  and 
subsequently  controlled  them  both. 

This  party  was,  of  course,  of  an  exclusive  Northern 
paternity.  But  while  this  was  going  on  at  the  Northern 
end  of  the  Republic,  there  existed  another  party  at  the 
Southern  end,  rather  more  compact,  but  with  none  of  the 
insignia  of  fanaticism  to  commend  it  to  the  ignorant  mul- 
titude, and  consequently  had  grown  but  slowly. 

This  latter  party  stood  boldly  against  all  assumed  powers, 
or  afiirmative  authority  of  any  kind,  on  the  part  of  the 
General  Government,  and  boasted  of  having  in  its  ranks 
many  of  the  greatest  intellects  of  the  South.  The  North- 
ern party  were  the  followers  of  Hamilton,  and  represented 
the  centripetal  forces  of  the  Government,  while  the  South- 
ern, were  the  advocates  of  Mr.  Jefierson's  doctrines,  and 
represented  the  centrifugal  forces  of  the  States,  and  arro- 
gated a  representation  of  Southern  feeling  and  opinion ; 
and  though  it  had  for  many  years  stood  almost  still  in  its 
growth,  was  suddenly  stimulated  to  full  size  by  the  fall  of 
the  Whig  party,  under  Mr.  Clay,  and  now  indeed  did  em- 
brace all  of  a  large  majority  of  the  Southern  people  within 
its  influence  and  control. 

In  this  manner  the  two  old  national  parties  —  Whig  and 
Democrat  —  became  absorbed  by  the  two  sectional  ones 
that  had  grown  up,  and  which,  for  the  first  time,  fairly  met 
in  the  Presidential  canvass  of  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty. 


BLOOM    AXD    BRIER.  323 

The  Northern,  led  by  Lincoln,  bore  inscribed  on  its  ban- 
ners every  wild,  fanatical  measure  which  had  ever  been 
hinted  at,  with  a  view  to  enlisting  the  sympathies  of  the 
vast  and  ignorant  hordes  of  the  North  in  the  intended 
crusade  upon  the  South. 

The  Southern,  led  by  Breckinridge,  came  to  the  contest, 
not  only  armed  with  every  doctrine  of  the  "  State  Rights  " 
party,  but  with  the  very  fire  of  hell  burning  in  their 
bosoms  for  the  ivrongs  which  the  Northern  people  had,  for 
a  few  years,  endeavored  to  inflict  upon  them. 

Probably  it  is  but  fair  to  say  that  the  leaders  of  each 
lashed  their  followers  into  the  highest  possible  rage,  by 
every  possible  extravagance  of  representation  as  to  the 
fiendish  purposes  of  the  other.  They  met  in  the  canvass  of 
1860,  and  Mr.  Lincoln  carried  the  election  overwhelmingly. 
By  this  result  the  South  now  plainly  saw  her  immense  infe- 
riority of  numbers,  and  should  have  been  cautioned  as  to 
her  course ;  but  she  was  not,  and  went  on  even  more  defi- 
antly to  that  fatal  climax  of  modern  error,  Secession. 

Against  this  course,  the  united  conservative  voice  of  the 
South  protested,  with  all  the  earnestness  it  dared  to  exhibit 
in  the  face  of  the  maddened  multitude,  even  until  hushed 
by  the  roar  of  the  cannon,  and  the  carnage  of  the  battle- 
field, and  is  not  responsible  for  the  ruin  of  her  people  and 
the  devastation  of  her  homes. 


CHAPTER   IL 

"  With  grave 
Aspect  he  rose,  and  in  his  rising  seemed 
A  pillar  of  State.'' 

SO  soon  as  it  was  definitely  ascertained  that  Lincoln  was 
elected.  Governor  Moore,  in  accordance  with  the  pre- 
vious legislation,  looking  to  the  success  of  the  Black-Repub- 


324  BLOOM    A^'D    BRIER. 

lican  party,  called  a  Convention  of  the  State,  to  consider  the 
necessity  of  withdrawing  from  the  Union. 

Colonel  Haywood  was  still  a  citizen  of  the  State,  and 
having  long  held  a  prominent  position  in  its  public  affairs, 
and  having  been  a  leading  spirit  in  the  advocacy  of  the 
right  of  a  State  to  secede,  had  been  nominated  as  one  of 
the  candidates  for  the  Convention,  and  wa^  borne  into  it 
most  triumphantly,  on  the  swollen  current  that  flowed  in 
that  direction. 

Henry  Brandon,  who  for  several  years  had  been  leading 
the  life  of  a  wealthy  planter,  resolved  on  canvassing  his 
county  for  the  same  position,  as  an  independent  candidate ; 
and  though  he  proclaimed  himself  opposed  to  the  alter- 
native, or  remedy  of  secession,  was  elected  by  a  most  flat- 
tering majority  —  attributable,  however,  to  his  personal 
popularity,  and  not  to  the  popularity  of  his  opinions. 

The  appointed  time  for  the  assembling  of  the  Convention 
had  come,  and  a  full  membership  was  present.  In  addition 
to  these,  a  large,  wealthy,  and  fashionable  company,  com- 
posed of  both  sexes,  had  met  at  the  capital,  with  a  view 
to  enjoying  the  gayety  and  spirit  of  the  extraordinary 
occasion.  Madness,  confidence,  and  a  reckless  hilarity  ruled 
the  hour,  and  reigned  paramount  in  all  ranks  of  society, 
particularly  among  those  who  were  of  the  original  State- 
Rights  school,  looking  upon  themselves  as  movers  in  the 
great  cause  of  Southern  rights. 

There  was,  nevertheless,  a  large  number  of  members, 
who  were  bitterly  opposed  to  Secession,  yet  seemed  to  have 
no  power  over  the  current  that  was  sweeping  against 
them,  and  said  but  little.  Had  they,  or  could  they  have 
made  more  effort,  the  State  would  never  have  perpetrated 
that  stupendous  folly. 

The  talent  of  the  Secession  party  was  fully  represented, 
that  of  the  Conservative,  not  so  much  so,  as  many  of  the  best 
men  of  the  State  had  felt  disinclined  to  exposing  them- 


B  L  O  O  M     AND     B  lU  E  R  .  325 

selves  to  popular  opprobrium,  and  had  refused  to  be  candi- 
dates. Indeed,  it  required  nothing  but  the  highest  order 
of  moral  courage  to  oppose  the  maddened  course  of  South- 
ern feeling. 

Several  days  after  the  Convention  met,  Colonel  Haywood 
introduced  a  set  of  resolutions  bearing  upon  the  occasion, 
requesting  that  they  be  brought  up  the  next  day  on  a 
second  reading. 

It  was,  of  course,  expected  that  he  would  support  them 
in  an  elaborated  speech.  At  the  appointed  hour  on  the 
succeeding  dav,  every  lobby  of  the  chamber,  and  all  the 
galleries  were  filled  to  overflowing.  Up  to  this  time  there 
had  been  some  difficulty  found  in  getting  the  proposition  of 
Secession  through,  on  anything  like  a  vnanimons  vote,  and 
the  resolutions  of  Colonel  Haywood  were  framed  with  a  view 
to  meeting  this  hesitation:  his  speech  was  consequently 
looked  forward  to,  with  deep  interest. 

Rising  and  calling  up  his  resolutions,  with  an  air  of  con- 
fidence and  authority  denoting  the  acknowledged  leader, 
it  was  not  long  before  he  was  at  the  full  height  of  his 
argument,  his  mind  working  with  the  speed  and  power  of 
an  electric  battery.  In  both  personal  and  moral  couracre, 
there  was  nothing  mortal  to  surpass  him.  He  feared  nothing, 
and  courted  any  responsibility,  and  yet  was  wanting  in 
many  of  those  minor  qualities,  so  essential  to  successful 
oratory,  which  flow  from  kind  and  gentle  emotions.  He 
was  by  nature  a  revolutionary  agitator  and  leader,  but  not 
a  conspirator,  nor  possessed  of  the  insinuating  eloquence 
of  a  conspirator,  and  nature  had  endowed  him  with  all 
necessary  qualities,  by  setting  no  bounds  to  his  ambition,  or 
limits  to  his  daring.  The  meeting  of  this  Convention  was 
the  culminating  period  of  his  life,  and  his  addressing  it  on 
this  occasion,  the  culminating  hour  of  that  period.  His 
mind  flashed,  flamed,  and  corruscated  in  all  the  jewelled 
affluence  which  the  occasion,  to  him,  presented.  Tliose 
28 


326  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

who  thought  with  him  became  even  more  confirmed,  while 
the  doubtful  came  over,  and  the  obstinate  trembled.  The 
final  vote  on  his  resolutions,  some  two  or  three  days  subse- 
quently, was  the  proudest  achievement  of  his  life,  which 
soon  died  away  to  sorrow  and  to  darkness,  never  to  rekindle 
again  its  noble  fire. 

It  had  been  the  expectation  of  his  friends  that  he  would 
be  the  ruling  spirit  of  the  great  movement,  but  for  some  over- 
cautious reason,  another  was  selected  to  direct  its  destinies. 

It  is  not  too  late  or  too  soon,  to  hazard  the  opinion  of 
his  more  superior  excellence  for  the  position,  and  had  he 
been  selected  to  drive  the  fortunes  of  the  South  along,  on 
the  thundering,  crashing  track  of  revolution,  as  it  really 
was,  instead  of  the  more  cautious  but  equally  tenacious 
Davis,  to  lead  them  in  the  open  ways  of  an  acknowledged 
constitutional  government,  the  end  would  at  least  have  been 
different.  His  address  upon  this  occasion  was  truthful  in 
its  assertions,  chivalric  in  its  tone,  and  picturesque  in  its 
representations,  yet  it  was  an  exaggerated  drawing  of  our 
past  wrongs  and  future  destiny,  and,  certainly,  a  very  great 
error  in  statesmanship.  It  was  bold  and  masterly  in  its 
spirit  and  execution,  adroit,  plausible,  and  inflammatory  in 
construction  and  arrangement,  and  exactly  suited  to  hurry 
the  Convention  on  to  the  point  which  he  so  much  desired. 
When  Colonel  Haywood  concluded,  the  Convention  ad- 
journed; Mr.  Brandon  having  previously  signified  that  he 
would  reply  to  him  on  the  following  day. 

Again  the  capitol  was  crowded  with  an  audience,  who 
were  anxious  to  hear  an  argument  against  the  course  which 
now  appeared  to  be  inevitable,  and  from  a  man,  too,  almost 
entirely  unknown  to  the  political  coteries  of  the  State. 

He  rose  as  calmly  as  if  only  before  an  audience  of  chil- 
dren, and  proceeded  in  a  cool  and  methodical  manner  to  a 
scathing  rebuke  of  the  course  which  the  Convention  was 
on  the  verge  of  adopting,  of  the  prejudices  and  fallacies  of 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  327 

Colonel  Haywood,  and  of  the  illegitimacy  and  fearful  conse- 
quences of  Secession. 

He  was  listened  to  with  the  profoiindest  attention,  and 
his  points  evidently  had  the  most  serious  influence;  so  much 
so,  that  it  was  thought  proper  to  defer  any  final  action  for 
several  days. 

These  were  the  two  leading  efforts  before  the  Convention : 
the  remainder  were  pieces  of  patchwork  and  lobbying,  and 
through  the  machinery  of  the  latter  the  question  was  finally 
carried  by  a  small  majority. 

The  proposition  was  then  made,  to  make  the  vote  unan- 
imous ;  to  which  nearly  all  of  the  delegates  consented.  * 
Brandon  refused,  saying  that  it  was  but  a  mere  fiction,  there- 
fore too  ridiculous  for  consideration ;  that  it  was  nothing 
short  of  revolution,  let  what  would  be  said  about  its  consti- 
tutionality, and  while  he  opposed  it,  both  in  principle  and 
in  practice,  he  yet  would  go  as  far  as  he  that  dared  go 
farthest:  that  his  opposition  was  not  a  desertion  of,  how- 
ever he  might  diflTer  with  his  people. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"Ay,  I  knew  her  well  ; 
She  was  my  friend  in  early  youth." 

THOUGH  there  were  numbers  of  both  members  of  the 
Convention  and  citizens,  who  felt  all  the  inherent 
gloom  of  the  condition,  yet,  as  a  general  thing,  a  joy  and 
a  glow  of  chivalric  excitement  rested  on  the  bosom  of 
society,  which  well  expressed  the  gayety  and  the  daring 
of  Southern  character. 

On  the  day  that  the  ordinance  of  Secession  was  finally 
passed,  there  were  but  few  men  bearing  a  respectable  rela- 


328  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

tion  to  society,  who  would  have  dared  to  express  disappro- 
bation of  the  measure.  Treason  was  too  good  a  name  for 
opposition,  and  wouki  have  been  treated  as  such  by  the 
first  man  who  heard  it  uttered. 

Expressive  of  this  feeling,  a  hall  was  given  on  the  night 
of  the  adjournment  of  the  Convention,  by  the  military  com- 
panies of  the  city,  to  which  the  members  were  particularly 
invited,  and  perhaps  there  has  never  been  a  finer  display 
of  Southern  intelligence,  chivalry,  beauty,  and  abandon, 
than  was  represented  there  that  night.  There  was,  too, 
everything  in  the  surroundings  to  entrance  the  senses,  and 
to  lead  the  hesitating  out  into  the  deep  current  of  popular 
feeling  and  hilarity.  Altogether,  the  occasion  was  a  car- 
nival scene  of  gallantry,  wit,  wealth,  beauty,  and  joyousness, 
which  it  will  ever  be  difficult  to  excel,  and  certainly  not 
likely  to  be  even  equalled  under  the  present  coarse,  vulgar, 
and  tyrannical  governmental  regime. 

The  prevailing  feeling  appeared  to  be  that  of  escaping 
from  further  association  with  a  people,  Avho  for  years  had 
respected  neither  the  laws  of  amenity,  decency,  or  humanity, 
in  their  relations  to  them  ;  and  that,  henceforth,  they  were 
to  be  a  people  to  themselves ;  homogeneous  in  blood,  feel- 
ing, sentiment,  interests,  and  pursuits. 

Happy  !  but  fatal  delusion  !  Could  that  gay  assemblage 
of  men  and  women  have  sufficiently  penetrated  the  future 
to  see  the  terrible  calamities  of  a  four-years'  civil  war,  and 
the  miserable  degradations  to  which  the  conqueror  would 
subject  them  at  its  close,  a  chill  feeling  would  have  crept 
through  their  warm  veins,  and  warned  them  to  an  adjourn- 
ment of  these  mocking  festivities. 

Brandon  was  present ;  for  while  he  had  opposed  the 
measure  which  these  festivities  were  in  honor  of,  with  all  the 
earnestness  and  eloquence  of  a  mind  that  clearly  foresaw 
the  disastrous  failure  which  must  inevitably  follow  it,  he 
yet  did  not  see  proper  to  divide  off  from  his  people,  nor  was 


BLOOM    AND     B  K  1  E  K.  329 

he  even  disposed  to  lose  the  pleasure  of  so  gay  an  hour,  for  a 
mere  difforence  of  opinion,  and  therefore  entered,  with  hi3 
natural  zest  of  such  enjoyments,  into  the  reckless  but  ele- 
gant hilarity  of  the  eyening. 

The  splendid  military  band  had  already  played  several 
of  its  spirited  pieces,  among  others,  two  that  afterward 
became  so  fiimously  national  in  the  South  —  "Dixie"  and 
the  "Bonnie  Blue  Flag"  — and  sets  were  now  forming  for 
the  dance. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  say  that  this  music  had  not 
imparted  to  Brandon's  feelings  all  the  glow  which  it  was 
calculated  to  inspire,  and  did  inspire  in  others ;  and  as  he 
stood  off  rather  to  himself,  enjoying  its  combined  sweetness, 
its  wildaway  grandeur,  and  the  gay  scenes  before  him, 
his  eye  fell  upon  his  old  college  friend,  Randolph  Ray, 
who  had  just  entered  the  hall,  with  Mrs.  Ray  upon  his  arm. 

Mr.  Ray  had  been,  for  more  than  three  years,  a  United 
States  Senator  from  x\labama,  but  being  a  prominent  advo- 
cate of  secession,  he  had  remained  at  home  during  this 
winter,  for  the  purpose  of  urging  the  adoption  of  that 
course,  and  had  been  present  during  the  session  of  the  Con- 
vention, with  a  view  to  assisting  in  placing  the  question 
beyond  uncertainty.  Working  with  his  whole  energy,  and 
using  his  entire  influence,  he  now  felt  all  the  gratification 
of  success. 

Brandon  had  met  with  him  repeatedly  during  the  time 
the  Ojnvention  had  been  in  session,  for  the  first  time,  how- 
ever, since  they  had  separated  at  college;  having  renewed 
their  old  intimacy,  they  had  had  many  arguments  in 
regard  to  the  course  which  it  was  proposed  that  the  State 
should  adopt,  neither,  however,  had  been  able  to  influence 
the  other,  but  had  always  ended  their  debates  in  the  friend- 
liest spirit.  Brandon  had  very  often  been  in  company  with 
Mrs.  Ray.  whom  he  found  to  be  quite  as  formidable  an  adver- 
sary to  A?>  views  as  her  husband  was,  possessing,  as  she 
28* 


330  BLOOM    AXD     BKIER, 

did,  a  very  high  order  of  intellect,  and  a  clear  understand- 
ing of  political  affairs;  with  a  face  distinguished  for  the 
softness  of  its  beauty,  and  manners  of  the  most  fascinating 
character,  she  had  even  superior  advantages  for  playing 
the  role  of  Madame  de  Stael.  He  had  never  met  with  her, 
however,  outside  of  the  small  quasi-political  circles  that 
always  revolve  around  such  places,  nor  had  he  yet  called 
upon  her,  as  he  had  several  times  intended  to  do,  and  had 
been  really  desirous  of  doing,  on  account  of  his  own  wife, 
who  had  been  an  early  friend  of  Mrs.  Kay,  but  of  which 
fact  the  latter  was  ignorant. 

Standing,  as  we  have  said,  rather  to  himself,  as  he  saw 
them  enter  the  room,  Brandon  immediately  approached 
them.  The  pleasure  of  meeting  was  mutual,  and  very  soon 
an  animated  conversation  was  going  on  between  them ;  in 
the  course  of  which  Ray  remarked,  that  he  was  pleasantly 
surprised  to  see  him  present  at  the  Secession  festival. 

"Ah,  my  good  fellow,"  replied  Brandon,  "you  measure 
my  grain  by  your  meal-tub.  I  never  allow  my  political 
opinions  to  invade  ray  social  pleasures  —  and  to  give  an 
instance  of  my  sincerity,  have  come  to  ask  Mrs.  Ray  to  be 
my  partner  in  the  dance."  Then  turning  to  her,  he  said, 
"Madam,  these  beautiful  airs,  and  the  gayety  of  the 
scenes  about  me,  if  not  the  occasion,  have  re-inspired  me 
with  the  passion  of  my  young  days.  Will  you  confer  this 
desired  pleasure  ?  " 

"  I  must  accept  your  invitation,  Mr.  Brandon,  both  as  a 
pleasure  and  as  a  distinguished  compliment ;  but,  sir,  you 
must  look  upon  the  acceptance,  as  I  do  upon  the  invita- 
tion, after  I  tell  you  that,  something  at  the  suggestion  of 
age,  but  more,"  she  added,  smilingly,  "  at  the  suggestion 
of  Mr.  Ray,  I  have  declined  to  dance  upon  any  occasion 
during  the  whole  winter." 

"  I  revoke,  Henrietta,  both  the  suggestion  of  age  and  my 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  331 

own,  and  even  command  you  to  dance  with  my  once  very 
gay,  but  now  very  solemn  friend,"  replied  Mr.  Ray  to  his 
wife. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  Ray,  for  your  opportune  revocals, 
and  also  for  your  grim  comments  upon  myself."  Then 
turning  to  Mrs.  Ray,  said,  "  But  I  claim,  madam,  the  ben- 
efit of  both." 

They  then  walked  out  on  the  floor,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments more  they  were  floating  on  the  full  tide  of  music,  to 
the  light  measures  of  the  fantastic  art. 

While  dancing,  Brandon  said  to  her,  that  he  had  not 
advanced  any  particular  claim  to  her  hand,  as  his  partner, 
but  that  he  really  had  both,  a  particular  and  a  double  one. 
"One  of  which  is,  that  you  are  the  wife  of  my  old  college 
friend  ;  and  the  other  is  —  one  of  which  you  are  not  aware 
—  but  in  virtue  of  one  and  the  other,  I  shall  in  future 
claim  more  intimate  terms  of  acquaintance." 

"  But,  Mr.  Brandon,  let  me  assure  you  that  a  very  im- 
portant one,  and  only  personal  to  yourself,  has  not  been 
considered  —  is  there  still  another?" 

"  There  is,  madam." 

"  Pray,  tell  it  to  me.  I  already  grow  impatient  to  be 
informed." 

"  Yes ;  well,  I  shall  have  to  begin  the  story  with  all  the 
romantic  circumlocution  of  a  novel,  as  the  facts  and  the 
characters  possess  a  rare  fragrance  of  sentimentality  and 
interest." 

"Ah,  well,  sir,  to  the  story." 

"  I  would,  but  we  have  to  dance." 

"  Very  well." 

Having  again  returned  to  their  places,  she  again  asked 
for  the  story. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Brandon,  begin." 

"  I  suppose  I  must,  though  it  appears  to  grow  in  length 
and  difficulty  as  I  approach  it." 


332  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  Let  me  insist  that  you  immediately  begin  it,  Mr.  Bran- 
don, after  some  fashion.  Your  dallying  sentimentality  is 
even  more  provoking  than  your  primitive  politics,  excuse 
me." 

"  Certainly,  but  I  must  indeed  be  very  provoking  then, 
since  I  see  the  interest  which  is  taken,  of  late,  by  your  sex, 
in  '  progressive  American  '  affairs." 

"Very  good,  I  will  stand  the  repartee,  provided  I  get 
you  to  the  story  —  don't  stop,"  she  said,  as  they  again  en- 
tered the  dance,  "  we  can  do  both ;  at  least,  you  can  relate, 
and  I  can  listen." 

"  Just  so,  but  that  is  a  slight  reversal  of  the  course  of 
things :  men  are  the  listeners  now-a-days,  and  women  the 
talkers." 

"Somewhat  as  you  say,  but  we  will  discuss  that  point  at 
another  time  —  the  story  now." 

"  As  you  say  ;  then  in  the  spring  of  18 — ,  but  no  matter 
when,  suffice  it,  that  on  a  winter's  day,  not  a  century  since, 
I  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  a  young  girl,  with  whom  I 
have  since  passed  many  blissful  years,  and  who,  to-night,  is 
at  my  country  home,  with  a  little  brood  around  her,  that 
doth  call  her  mother.  This  earthly  angel  of  my  heart 
hath  often  told  me,  in  our  long  winter-evening  talks,  of 
the  friends  and  pleasures  of  her  joyous  youth,  and  often 
hath  she  dwelt,  with  a  brightened  eye,  and  a  pleasing  mem- 
ory, on  the  name  of  one,  who  since  then  hath  soared  so 
high  as  to  have  forgot,  mayhap,  a  friend,  whose  wing  hath 
been  never  spread,  nor  glittered  in  the  bright  skies  of  pop- 
ular applause.  The  name  was  indeed  a  pretty  one,  and  if 
I  remember  right,  't  was  Henrietta  Terrence." 

"  Mr.  Brandon,"  she  exclaimed,  stepping  slightly  back 
and  clasping  her  hands  in  expectation,  "do  tell  me  the 
maiden  name  of  Mrs.  Brandon !  " 

"  Mary  Gray." 

"  Mary  Gray  ?  Mary  Gray !  " 


BLOOM    AND     D  E  I  E  R.  333 

"  Ay,  Mary  Gray." 

"  Oh,  sir,  she  was  the  bosom  friend  of  my  school-girl 
days ;  and  you  certainly  have  even  more  than  a  double 
claim  upon  me.  And  Mary  Gray  is  Mrs.  Brandon  ?  How 
is  she,  and  where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  well,  or  was  a  few  days  since,  and  as  I  told  you, 
at  our  country  home  to-night,  with  a  happy  little  brood  of 
children  at  her  feet.  How  do  you  like  the  beginning  of 
my  story  ?  " 

**  Oh,  most  handsomely  told ;  and  I  am  satisfied,  too, 
that  what  Mr.  Ray  has  very  often  said,  since  meeting  you 
here,  is  even  more  than  true,  since  I  know  that  Mary  Gray 
would  never  have  chosen  a  husband  from  the  common 
herd,  or  one  that  she  did  not  know  could  not  only  reflect 
honor  on  himself,  but  upon  her  too." 

"  Indeed !  What  flattering  tale  hath  Ray  indulged  his 
fancy  in,  respecting  one  so  unpretending  as  I  have  been  ?  " 

"  Why,  just  as  you  say,  unpretending  and  unaspiring, 
you  had  never  done  yourself  justice,  nor  been  done  justice 
to,  else  you  would  long  since  have  been  in  public  life." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  him,  indeed,  for  his  flattering  opinion; 
and  perhaps  'tis  both  — perhaps  neither.  I  have  no  ta.ste 
for  public  life,  nor  any  appreciation  of  public  honors ;  and 
outside  of  what  I  considered  a  private  duty,  I  should  never 
have  come  to  this  Convention.  You  must  not  think  that  what 
I  am  going  to  say  has  any  personal  reference  or  application, 
but  I  really  have  a  cool  contempt  for  any  office  which  the 
American  people  can  bestow  —  take  the  least  possible  inter- 
est in  party  questions  —  seldom  attend  an  election;  and 
when  I  see  the  very  exceptional  means  resorted  to  for 
the  purpose  of  obtaining  positions,  and  the  style  of  men 
who  almost  universally  secure  them,  my  contempt  amounts 
to  a  loathing,  both  of  the  offices  and  the  officers.  The 
only  wonder  is  that  this  evil  day  has  not  come  upon  us 
before.    Political  life,  by  degrees,  has  assumed  all  the  mean 


334  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

stringency  of  a  low  order  of  Free-Masonry,  by  which  all 
petty  aspirants  are  enabled  to  secure  public  positions  in 
their  turn,  and  by  some  sort  of  black-balling  system,  to 
exclude  all  men  of  a  better  style  of  mind  than  them- 
selves." 

"  I  presume  there  is  much  truth  in  what  you  say ;  and 
I  very  often  hear  Mr.  Ray  speak  of  the  disgusting  means 
necessary  to  success.  But,  then,  men  of  intellect  should 
never  abandon  the  field,  else  why  was  intellect  given  ?  and 
what  would  soon  become  of  society,  if  inferior  men  are  per- 
mitted to  control  it  ? " 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  correct  position  ;  but  disgust  is  a  very 
strong  feeling  or  sentiment,  and  very  often  paralyzes  effort. 
But  we  have  to  dance  again." 

They  soon  returned  to  their  places,  when  Mrs.  Ray 
resumed  by  saying : 

"  Well,  let  me  insist,  for  Mary  Gray's  sake,  at  least,  that 
for  the  future  you  do  not  allow  such  feelings  to  influence 
you  ;  and  now  that  you  have  begun,  never  permit  yourself 
to  tire,  while  you  feel  that  you  are  right.  Now,  sir,  how 
pleasant  it  would  have  been  to  us  both,  for  Mary  to  have 
been  in  Washington  with  me !  It  would  have  been  our 
old  'Patapsco'  life  over  again  —  perpetual  youth.  You 
have  let  your  old  comrade  in  letters  lead  you,  in  conferring 
honors  on  his  wife,  at  least." 

She  said  this  with  a  playful  badinage,  which  induced 
Brandon  to  reply : 

"  Ah !  Ray  has  just  got  his  grist  in  first,  and  I  fear,  from 
present  appearances,  the  good  fellow  will  get  it  ground  out 
sooner  than  he  expects  it." 

"  Come,  Mr.  Brandon,  I  see  your  allusion,  but  shall  not 
talk  politics  with  you.  You  have  yourself  suggested  a 
more  pleasing  subject  —  your  wife,  and  my  friend." 

The  dance  was  now  ended,  and  Brandon  led  her  to  a 
seat,  taking  one  by  her  side.     They  were  enjoying  a  famil- 


BLOOM     AND    E  R  I  K  R  .  335 

iar  and  social  talk,  when  Ray  came  up,  with  Mr.-.  Shel- 
don on  his  arm,  with  whom  he  had  also  been  dancinof. 

Mi*s.  Sheldon  was  the  wife  of  a  member  of  Congress 
from  Alabama,  and  was  held  to  be  one  of  the  most  attrac- 
tive females  who  visited  the  great  American  Capital.  Bran- 
don had  known  her  for  several  years,  but  had  not  met  her 
during  the  evening,  before  this.  The  meeting  was  very 
agreeable  to  them  both,  and  they  were  not  long  in  getting 
into  a  pleasant  conversation. 

"  Brandon,"  said  ^Ir.  Ray,  "  I  saw  by  the  way  in  which 
Henrietta  and  yourself  began  the  evening,  that  it  was  to 
be  a  sort  of  an  epitomized  mutual-admiration  society.  I 
therefore  set  immediately  out  in  search  of  some  one  to 
supply  her  place ;  and  you  see  what  success  I  met  with. 
For  the  first  time  in  five  years  I  went  through  all  the 
giddy  mazes  of  a  dance  with  Mrs.  Sheldon,  who  took  pity 
on  my  forlorn  appearance,  and  has,  moreover,  promised  to 
patronize  me  for  the  entire  evening,  if  the  engagement 
between  yourself  and  Henrietta  is  to  last  so  long." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Ray,  but  only  with  th^  consent  of  Mrs.  Ray," 
said  Mrs.  Sheldon,  pleasantly. 

"  Certainly,  Mrs.  Sheldon,  I  very  cheerfully  resign  all 
claim  to  the  gay  young  gentleman  for  the  evening,  as  I 
have  a  double  labor  of  love  and  duty  to  perform  in  the 
case  of  Mr.  Brandon,  the  first,  in  requiring  him  to  tell  me 
about  his  wife,  who  is  an  old  friend  of  mine,  and  next,  in 
having  him  explain  to  me  w^hy  he  is  so  far  in  the  rear  of  the 
present  excitement.  Southern  opinion,  and  feeling,  rather." 

Mrs.  Sheldon  now  joining  more  familiarly  in  the  conver- 
sation, remarked,  in  support  of  the  last  remark  of  Mrs. 
Ray : 

"Yes,  Mr.  Brandon,  we  all  hold  you  amenable  to  the 
charge  of  pure  perverseness,  as  the  clear  and  brilliant  effort 
you  made  in  the  Convention  certainly  forbids  us  bringing 
any  other." 


336  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  Were  my  years  less  advanced,  ladies,  my  gallantry 
would  persuade  me  to  yield  to  this  pleasing  pressure,  but 
as  age  is  but  a  synonym  for  obstinacy  and  obduracy,  I  find 
myself  compelled  to  remain  in  my  present  position." 

"  Intellect,"  replied  Mrs.  Ray,  "  is  not  individual  property, 
but  public,  and  the  world  has  a  right  to  command  its  ser- 
vices; and  we,  as  part  of  the  world,  inform  you  that  we 
cannot  do  without  yours  —  what  does  Mary  say  to  you  in 
regard  to  this  matter?" 

"  Oh,  she  pretends  to  be  quite  out  of  patience,  and  quite 
as  ready  as  any  of  her  sex,  to  fire  the  Ephesian  dome,  if 
she  could  only  imagine  Greeley,  or  Seward,  or  Lincoln,  on 
the  top  of  it." 

"I  am  satisfied  she  is  with  us,  if  her  spirit  has  not  lost 
its  youthful  ring,  and  I  am  only  astonished  that  she  has 
not  controlled  you  more  than  she  has." 

"Yes,  I  have  rather  taunted  some  of  my  friends,  witli 
being  directed  by  their  wives  in  this  matter:  it  looks  very 
like  female  work." 

"Ah,  you  do  your  own  sex  injustice,  Mr.  Brandon,"  said 
Mrs.  Sheldon;  "as  up  to  the  time  of  this  Mr.  Lincoln's 
election,  my  husband  was  seriously  opposed  to  the  then  pro- 
posed measure  of  redress,  and  would  not  even  discuss  it  with 
any  one,  looking  upon  it  as  a  pure  political  heresy,  and 
would  not  believe  that  the  Northern  people  were  so  lost  to 
all  sense  of  justice  as  to  elect  a  man  holding  such  opinions. 
But  his  success  has  led  him  to  believe  that  the  North 
must  design  crushing  us,  and  that  secession  is  a  matter  of 
necessity,  not  a  political  consideration,  nor  one  of  state-craft, 
and  I  think  the  inference  correct,  from  the  fact,  that  Mr. 
Lincoln  has  never  been  associated  with  either  of  the  great 
national  parties  of  the  country  as  a  leader,  nor  with  any- 
thing except  that  of  *  Abolition.'  Entirely  without  edu- 
cation, and  without  reputation  beyond  that  of  a  common 
jester,  he  must  have  been  selected  to  carry  out  this  tcr- 


BLOOM     AND    BRIER.  337 

rible  purpose  alone.  Kor  is  it  singular  that  such  a  man 
should  have  been  selected  for  this  work,  as  it  is  oftener  so 
than  otherwise,  that  coarse  jesters  conceal  the  most  brutal 
character." 

"  In  behalf  of  the  State,  I  thank  you,  Mrs.  Sheldon.  It 
needs  IMr.  Brandon's  services,  and  must  have  them,"  said 
Ur.  Ray. 

"Come,  Ray,  it  is  I  that  require  help,  and  not  these 
ladies,  and  I  protest  against  your  assisting  them.  •  Moreover, 
I  have  already  offered  such  service,  as  this  thing  you  call 
'peaceable  secession'  will  certainly  render  it  necessary  — 
but,  Mrs.  Sheldon,  will  you  allow  me  to." 

Before  he  could  conclude  his  remarks,  the  band  had 
filled  the  hall  with  the  deep  voluptuous  swell  of  one  of  its 
finest  pieces,  and  next  proceeded  by  request  to  repeat  that 
strange  wild  air,  half-martial,  and  half-plaintive,  "Dixie;" 
which  by  some  means  had  already  become  famous  as  a  sort 
of  Southern  slogan,  and  possessing,  as  it  did,  the  peculiar 
power  of  rousing  passion,  sentiment,  and  that  feeling  of 
romantic  resentment,  which  an  oppressed  people  might  be 
supposed  to  entertain,  had  its  full  share  of  responsibility 
for  the  excitement  of  the  day. 

The  entire  company,  as  if  by  one  consent,  hushed  their 
voices  into  attentive  silence,  as  the  band  flung  out  its  rap- 
turous notes. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


*'\Ve  must  be  free  or  die,  who  speak  the  tongue 
That  Shakespeare  spak«." 

BRANDON  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence  when  the 
music  hushed,  and  said  to  Mrs.  Ray,  with  a  laugh, 
that  the  band  ought  to  be   prosecuted  for   encouraging 
29 


338  BLOOM    AND    BPwIER. 

seditious  impulses,  and  being  accessory  to  treason.  "Just 
such  music  as  that  encourages  you  all  to  assume  the  posi- 
tion of  great  sufferers,  and  willing  martyrs." 

"  Why,  Brandon,"  said  Ray,  "  I  fear  you  are  becoming 
really  barbaric  in  your  tastes.  You  speak  of  that  beauti- 
fully wild  and  tender  air  with  the  coldness  of  one  who 
has  no  generous  emotions." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Sheldon ;  "and  affects  to  be  unmoved; 
but  I  think  the  very  fact  of  his  attempted  disparagement 
shows  that  he  felt  its  influence." 

"  Oh !  you  mistake,  madam ;  I  do  profess  to  be  very 
greatly  influenced.  I  believe  all  Southern  people  to  be 
more  sensible  to  the  influence  of  music  than  others.  In- 
deed, that  *  language  of  the  soul'  only  reaches  perfection  in 
Southern  lands,  and  therefore  has  a  greater  influence  there 
than  elsewhere.  The  only  sweet-singing  birds  belong  to 
the  tropics;  the  sweetest  human  voices  are  all  but  univer- 
sally from  Southern  countries,  and  we  may  remark  too,  that 
there  is  far  more  softness  in  the  natural  sounds  of  Southern 
climes.  The  softVhispers  of  the  Southern  breeze  are  pro- 
verbially acknowledged,  and  the  murmer  of  the  sea  on  the 
Southern  coasts  is  well  known  for  its  sighing  beauty ;  and 
yet.  Southern  latitudes  are  as  peculiar  for  the  grandeur  of 
their  thunder-storms,  and,  pardon  me,  for  the  temper  of  its 
people,  too." 

"You  are  correct,  Brandon,"  replied  Mr.  Eay.  "North- 
ern latitudes  furnish  but  little  to  the  romantic,  the  senti- 
mental, or  the  musical  world —  indeed,  furnish  but  little 
to  life  in  any  way,  but  its  rudenesses,  its  prejudices,  and  its 
endurances — and  wrapping  their  people  in  some  sort  of 
wild  fanaticism,  they  themselves  mistake  it  for  spirituality, 
stern  virtue,  and  great  moral  courage." 

"You  must  allow  me  to  agree  w^ith  you  also,  Mr.  Bran- 
don," said  Mrs.  Sheldon  ;  "  but  then,  I  am  a  little  astonished 


li  L  ()  ( )  M     AND     BRIER.  339 

at  your  endorsement  of  anything  Southern,  to  the  prejudice 
of  either  Northern  people  or  countries." 

"It  is  not  the  first  time,  madam,  that  I  have  been  mis- 
understood, nor  will  it  be  the  last,  I  imagine,"  replied 
Brandon,  a  little  sharply,  and  added — "my  opinions  are 
exactly  the  reverse ;  and  that,  in  regard  to  secession,  does 
not  refer  to  the  people,  nor  the  country,  from  which  this 
State  has  now  withdrawn  as  a  political  integer.  I  view 
the  movement  from  an  entirely  different  stand-point,  and 
look  upon  it  as  an  effort  to  establish  a  sort  of  political 
isotherm,  and  not  as  a  social  movement ;  and  as  such,  a 
violation  of  all  the  natural  laws  of  governmental  science ; 
and  should  look  upon  it  in  the  same  light,  even  if  the 
Northern  people  were  ten  times  more  disagreeable  than 
they  are,  and  their  country  lay  around  the  North  Pole  itself. 
I  know  too,  that  the  Southern  people  are  the  very  least 
fitted  to  become  revolutionists :  their  social  organization, 
their  imperial  and  chivalric  notions,  unfit  them  for  the  rude 
scenes  of  protracted  civil  war ;  they  naturally  love  all  the 
pomp  and  circumstance  of  strong,  well-organized  govern- 
ment. This  secessional  movement  cannot,  therefore,  be 
viewed  too  sorrowfully — as  fatal  to  their  prosperity,  their 
happiness,  their  distinctiveness,  and  their  individuality." 

The  music  and  the  occasion  had  by  this  time  suffused 
every  face  with  an  incandescence  of  ecstasy  and  delight,  and 
every  heart  seemed  to  yearn  for  the  clash  of  arms. 

The  "  CAUSE  "  appeared  forgotten  in  the  prospect  of  a 
display  of  Southern  chivalry.  Young  girls  now  promised 
to  buckle  on  the  swords  and  spears  of  their  young  lovers ; 
and  young  lovers  sealed  their  vows  of  truth  and  faith  with 
the  promise  of  honor  or  death.  This  feeling  was  all  aglow 
when  the  master  of  ceremonies  called  out  "  get  your  part- 
ners." And  there  gallantly  walked  out  on  the  floor  those 
with  bright  and  happy  faces  and  brave  hearts,  basking  in 
the  geniality  of  the  hour,  and  tht   sweet  and   blushing 


340  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

approval  of  their  lady-loves,  who  never  came  to  claim  the 
guerdon  of  their  love  and  chivalry  ;  but,  before  the  summer 
had  come  and  gone,  lay  stiff  and  stark  in  the  cold  embraces 
of  the  battle-field. 

Brandon  now  asked  Mrs.  Kay  and  Mrs.  Sheldon,  if  they 
had  any  engagements  for  the  set. 

''  No  ;  we  have  not,"  replied  both  of  the  ladies  at  once  ; 
"  and  I,"  added  Mrs.  Ray,  "  as  I  have  said  to  you,  dance 
but  seldom,  and  only  did  so  to-night  in  special  compliment 
to  Mr.  Brandon." 

"I  am  yours  to  command,  madam,"  he  replied  with  a 
smile  ;  "and  Mr.  Brandon  is  obliged  to  Mrs.  Ray  for  so  dis- 
tinguished a  mark  of  favor,  and  will  remember  it  as  such." 

"And  I,"  said  Mrs.  Sheldon,  "only  danced  in  compli- 
ment to  Mr.  Ray." 

"  There,  Brandon,"  said  Mr.  Ray,  "  only  contemplate  the 
great  obligation  we  are  under — such  a  weight  could  not  be 
easily  borne,  were  not  the  substance  so  spiritual." 

"  And  the  spirituality  so  substantial  in  its  own  support," 
replied  Mrs.  Sheldon,  who  was  growing  a  little  embonpoint. 
"  But,  ]\Ir.  Ray,  you  are  appearing  in  a  new  character  — 
long  as  I  have  known  you,  I  do  not  recollect  to  have  seen 
you  aspire  to  the  giddy  height  of  so  gallant  a  speech." 

"  Ah,  you  have  only  known  him,  madam,"  said  Brandon, 
"  since  he  has  been  in  that  arena  which  calls  for  strata- 
gem, treason,  and  spoils  ;  had  you  known  him,  as  I  have, 
in  the  days  of  his  youth  and  innocence,  you  would  have 
heard  many  such,  and  better." 

"  Tell  me,  Brandon,"  replied  Ray,  interrupting  him, 
"  how  it  is  that  I  find  you  and  myself  to  have  so  completely 
changed  positions.  At  college  you  were  always  on  the  top- 
wave  of  excitement,  while  I  was  out  in  some  quiet  eddy; 
now,  I  am  riding  on  the  dashing,  foaming  billow,  and  you 
have  floated  off  into  the  still  waters.     Why  is  it?  " 

"  Simply  for  the  reason  that  I  soonest  exhausted  that 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  341 

element  which  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  enters  into  every 
man's  character  —  a  certain  sort  of  sympathy  with  anything 
novel,  exciting,  and  adventurous  —  corrected  in  some  per- 
sons by  age,  modified  in  others  by  experience,  and  yet  in 
others  again,  runs  riot  to  the  \Gry  funeral. 

"  Then,"  said  Mrs.  Ray,  smiling,  "  you  think  my  husband, 
and  they  who  agree  with  him,  as  but  just  entering  upon  the 
actual  experience  of  life,  and  the  present  movement  but  an 
evidence  of  the  want  of  it." 

"  Expressed  most  admirably,  madame.  I  am  most  truly 
indebted  to  you  for  the  happy  question,  giving,  as  you  did, 
its  very  best  answer." 

"  Well,  Brandon,  you  know  the  wdierefores  of  our  action, 
and  it  is  not  worth  while  to  repeat  them.  But  if  we  had 
no  other  cause  for  our  course,  that  infamous  affair  of  old 
Brown  at  Harper's  Ferry  would  justify  us,  endorsed,  as  it 
was,  by  the  party  now  in  power.  While  I  well  know  the 
dangers  that  threaten  us  in  the  undertaking,  I  yet  had 
rather  suffer  in  the  attempt  to  quit  such  a  Union,  than  to 
be  degraded  in  it ;  I  prefer  an  honorable  death  to  a  despic- 
able life,  or  a  cowardly  peace.  If  we  can  only  secure  peace 
at  the  price  of  our  honor,  better  to  be  exterminated  —  and 
the  sooner  the  better.  We  can  make  a  proud  history,  if 
we  cannot  secure  our  rights." 

"  Yes ;  that  is  all  very  commendable,  but  you  must  re- 
member that  all  of  us  have  n't  the  same  amount  of  nerve, 
wherewith  to  meet  this  exterminating  process,"  said  Bran- 
don, laughing. 

"  Ah,  secession  will  furnish  you  that  gratis,"  replied  Ray, 
laughing  in  return. 

"But  seriously,  Ray,  those  are  all  very  noble  senti- 
ments, and  are  such  as  all  men  should  cherish.  You  must 
remember,  however,  that  the  laws  which  rule  in  state-craft, 
are  quite  different  from  those  that  rule  in  private  life.  The 
dusty  old  adages  of  *  Honesty  being  the  best  policy,' 
29* 


342  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

*  Cheating  never  thrives/  and  so  forth,  scarcely  hold  good, 
even  in  private  life,  and  must  not  be  interpreted  too  literally 
in  public  affairs." 

"You  don't  pretend  to  say  that  political  science  is  a  sys- 
tem of  dishonesty,  do  you,  Brandon  ? " 

"I  will  not  use  your  words,  but  I  am  almost  willing  to 
use  your  meaning.  Nature  is  only  truly  honest.  Society 
is  a  modification  of  nature,  and  what  we  call  law.  Civil 
law  is  the  offspring  of  society,  and  made  by  those  who  are 
interested  in  the  subject.  Ergo,  ex  parte  —  ergo,  selfish  — 
ergo,  not  very  honest." 

"  You  are  radical  —  agrarian,  Brandon." 

"  Ko  ;  far  from  it.  Not  so  much  as  you  are.  I  am  even 
an  extremer  advocate  for  society,  but  am  willing  to  admit 
its  real  character,  and  as  it  is  expected  to  be  when  men 
undertake  to  control  the  laws  of  nature,  and  have  carried 
that  deviation  into  sl  system.  The  exception  is  then  made 
the  rule,  and  the  rule  necessarily  dishonest.  Society  is  an 
invention  of  intellect  and  capital,  and  wars  upon  natural 
justice,  and  the  higher  society  advances,  the  more  corrupt 
its  agencies  become." 

"  I  can't  argue  against  such  positions  as  you  advance, 
Brandon." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not.  You  wish  me  to  admit  the  rights 
of  natural  law,  under  the  sanctions  of  society.  But  let  us 
look  ou,  and  discuss  these  matters  some  other  time." 


CHAPTER  Y. 

"  Prithee,  friend, 
Canst  tell  me  who  that  lady  is?" 

EVERY  possible  place  in  the  room  was  now  filled  with 
sets  of  dancers.    The  old  mingled  with  the  young,  and 
all  seemed  equally  borne  upon  the  gladsome  and  sparkling 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  343 

current  of  the  hour ;  while  young  hearts  glanced  with  love 
and  joy,  old  hearts  caught  the  infection,  and  were  living 
over  again  the  roseate  hours  of  youth. 

Mr.  Ray  had  been  called  off  by  some  gentlemen,  and  had 
left  Brandon  in  company  with  the  two  ladies. 

In  the  set  dancing  nearest  to  them,  was  a  couple  whose 
remarkable  appearance  and  youthfulness  —  the  young  girl 
for  her  beauty,  and  the  youth  for  his  gallant  bearing  and 
handsome  face  —  attracted  the  attention  of  Mrs.  Ray,  who 
almost  in  a  tone  of  exclamation  asked  Brandon  who  they 
could  possibly  be. 

"The  young  girl,"  replied  Brandon,  "is  a  niece  of  mine, 
Alice  Hunter,  about  fifteen,  and  the  youth  is  a  second 
cousin  of  hers,  McKenzie  Campbell,  and  only  a  few  months 
older.  The  girl  is  indeed  beautiful,  and  as  intellectual 
and  spirited  as  she  is  beautiful.  The  youth  is  quite  remark- 
able, both  for  his  mind  and  his  manliness ;  both  of  them 
are  boarding  in  the  city,  attending  school.  He  is  already 
prepared  to  enter  college,  but  his  father  has  not  wished  to 
send  him  from  home  while  so  young.  He  has  been  a  mem- 
ber of  one  of  the  military  companies  for  some  time,  and 
quite  a  pet  with  the  members,  which  is  the  reason  of  his 
being  in  military  dress.  He  is  a  son  of  Colonel  Campbell, 
who,  I  believe,  is  one  of  your  great  iiien." 

"  Certainly,  I  know  Colonel  Campbell ;  and  he  is  a  great 
man,  anywhere." 

"  Yes,  perhaps  so  ;  but  the  girl  is  a  daughter  of  Thomas 
Hunter,  the  State  senator  from  this  district,  and  my  sister's 
husband." 

"Ah,  I  know  him  very  well,  and  had  missed  him. 
Where  is  he,  that  he  has  not  been  here  ?  " 

"  He  does  not  approve  this  course,  and  has  remained  at 
home,  as  I  tell  him,  'sulking;'  but  he  says,  'gloomy'" 

"  I  regret  to  learn  that  he  looks  so  despondingly  to  the 
future.  Say  to  him  that  I  was  disappointed  in  not  meeting 
him." 


344  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  I  will ;  but  changing  the  subject,  can  you  tell  me  who 
that  very  handsome  girl  is,  with  the  long,  curling,  brown 
hair,  there  dancing  with  that  eccentric,  but  brilliant  genius, 
young  Stafford  ?  '* 

The  young  girl  who  had  thus  attracted  his  attention  was 
probably  not  over  twenty  years  old,  and  her  appearance 
was  of  that  peculiar  character  which  universally  fastens 
the  eye  of  the  casual  observer,  and  gives  eminence  in  the 
social  circle,  indicating  a  temperament  which  at  once 
expresses  energy,  spirit,  gentleness,  cheerfulness,  and  al- 
ways accompanied  by  a  high  order  of  intellect.  She  was 
full  height,  lithe  in  her  figure,  but  not  delicate,  and  rounded 
at  every  point,  with  all  the  perfection  of  the  most  exquisite 
art.  Her  head  and  face  were  models  of  Nature's  own 
sculpture.  Her  forehead  was  high  and  square,  but  not  too 
high,  nor  too  square.  Her  eyes  were  deep-brown,  lustrous, 
and  soft.  Her  hair  w^as  full,  glossy,  and  a  deep,  pure 
auburn,  with  a  complexion  that  corresponded  to  these, 
both  in  cast,  tinge,  and  richness.  At  the  moment  of  Bran- 
don's asking  this  question,  she  was  dancing  with  Mr.  Staf- 
ford, a  young  gentleman  of  handsome  fortune,  gay,  eccen- 
tric, highly  educated,  and  well  known  in  all  the  fashion- 
able coteries  of  the  State,  and,  like  nearly  all  young  men 
of  that  style,  had  floated  off  in  the  current  of  Secession. 
He  was  now  present  at  the  capital,  as  others  were,  for 
enjoyment,  and  was  the  acknowledged  admirer  of  Margaret 
Sedley. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Ray,  "  she  is  a  near  relation  of  Mr. 
Kay,  a  Virginian,  an  orphan,  and  a  girl  of  some  fortune. 
She  has  been  with  us  for  two  years,  and  came  here  in  com- 
pany with  us.  She  is  highly  accomplished,  and  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  girls  I  have  ever  met.  I  will  introduce  her 
to  you  when  the  dance  is  over  with.  I  think  you  will 
admire  her.  She  is  already  a  great  admirer  of  yours. 
Hearing  your  reply  to  Colonel  Haywood,  she  was  quite 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  345 

carried  away  with  it,  and  said  it  was  the  only  speech  she. 
ever  heard  that  she  really  did  admire.  I  think,  though, 
she  said  that  to  tease  her  uncle  —  as  much  as  to  say  that 
she  had  never  admired  any  of  his.  I  take  occasion  to  tell 
you  this,  so  that  you  may  be  prepared  to  admire  her"  — 
making  the  last  remark  with  a  smile  —  "  and  to  foil  any 
prejudice  you  may  have  against  her  political  opinions." 

"  I  appreciate  the  compliment  of  her  good  opinion.  She 
is  certainly  one  of  the  handsomest  girls  I  have  seen,  and, 
from  her  face,  must  have  a  high  order  of  intellect.  As  to 
her  political  opinions,  they  are  but  the  result  of  the  gen- 
eral direction  of  affairs,  for  which  no  one,  particularly,  is 
responsible,  and  but  few  can  resist.  In  her  case,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  resist  the  influence  of  her  distinguished  asso- 
ciation." 

"  Thank  you." 

"I  believe,  Mr.  Brandon,"  said  Mrs.  Sheldon,  who  had, 
during  this  time,  been  conversing  with  some  ladies  sitting 
by  her,  but  had  again  turned  to  Brandon  and  Mrs.  Ray, 
"from  what  I  gathered  of  your  reply  to  Mrs.  Ray,  that 
you  think  women  rather  reflect  than  originate  opinions." 

"  I  certainly  think  as  you  say,  as  a  general  truth ;  but  in 
this  special  matter  of  Secession,  leaving  out  the  exact  leaders 
of  it,  I  think  your  sex  well  up  to  papular  opinion,  if  not 
in  advance.  There  is  an  equity  about  it,  which  is  the  base 
of  your  opinions ;  but  what  is  of  very  nigh  as  great  im-  • 
portance,  it  has  a  certain  dash  of  chivalry  about  it,  and 
defiance,  too,  with  a  distant  view  of  the  clash  of  sabres, 
and  the  silver  bit  of  the  war-horse,  as  he  proudly  bears  into 
the  fight  the  plumed  cavalier,  which  captivates  the  female 
heart,  even  while  it  is  the  source  of  the  tenderest  grief." 

"Your   compliment   is   rather   an   equivocal  one,  Mr. 
Brandon." 

"I  did  not  design  my  words  to  assume  the  form  of  com- 
pliment, but  of  a/ac^." 


346  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

The  conversation  now  took  a  wider  range,  in  which  the 
right  of  State  secession,  the  moral,  social,  and  economical 
features  of  slavery,  the  particular  and  general  effects  of 
its  destruction  upon  society,  were  freely  but  summarily 
reviewed  ;  and  last,  the  question  of  a  difference  of  race 
between  the  Northern  and  Southern  people,  as  evidenced 
by  each  of  them  in  their  relationship  to  the  different  ques- 
tions of  the  day. 

The  dance  had  again  ended,  and  the  dancers  were  marcli- 
ing  round  the  great  hall  in  a  grand  promenade. 

Brandon,  seeing  Margaret  Sedley  approaching  them, 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  young  Stafford,  suddenly  brought 
the  conversation  to  a  close.  Begging  pardon  of  Mrs. 
Sheldon  for  his  abruptness,  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Ray,  and 
reminded  her  of  the  promised  introduction. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  This  is  the  very  coinage  of  your  brain." 

WHEN  nearly  opposite,  by  a  look  from  Mrs.  Ray,  Miss 
Sedley  and  Mr.  Stafford  left  the  promenade,  and 
came  to  her.  Brandon  had  frequently  met  with  the  gay 
young  gentleman,  and  had  some  acquaintance  with  him, 
and  as  they  met  in  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Ray,  spoke  very 
cordially. 

"Mr.  Stafford,"  said  Mrs.  Ray,  "I  fear  Margaret  is 
making  a  monopoly  of  your  society,  this  evening,  and 
depriving  you  of  much  variety,  at  least." 

"By  no  means,  madam.  I  rather  fear  the  charge  might 
be  brought  by  her." 

"Don't  be  disturbed  on  scores  so  slight,  Mr.  Stafford,  I 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  347 

am  taking  matters  very  calmly;  we  will  at  least  let  honors 
go  easy,"  replied  Miss  Sedley. 

Mrs.  Ray  now  asked  Mr.  Brandon  to  let  her  introduce 
him  to  Miss  Sedley,  and  as  she  did  so,  immediately  turned 
to  Mr.  Stafford,  saying:  "Come,  sir;  I  have  something  for 
your  private  ear :  I  will  therefore  relieve  you  of  Margaret 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  accept  your  company  myself  for 
this  promenade." 

"  With  a  pleasure,  madam,  which  nothing  can  exceed 
that  I  dare  to  tell." 

"Ah!  sir,  most  artistically  worded,  but  accepted." 

"Mrs.  Sheldon,  I  leave  you  in  undisputed  possession  of 
Mr.  Ray." 

"Mr.  Brandon,  will  you  accept  charge  of  Miss  Sedley 
in  trust  for  Mr.  Stafford,  to  be  returned  on  call,  as  the 
merchants  say  ?  Now,  sir,"  addressing  Mr.  Stafford,  "allons.'* 

These  changes  were  made  so  quickly,  and  so  handsomely, 
and  so  pleasantly,  that  all  of  the  parties  but  herself  were 
bewildered  and  perfectly  in  her  power,  and  took  their 
places  without  further  thought. 

Mrs.  Ray  immediately  took  occasion  to  say  to  Mr.  Staf- 
ford that  she  had  taken  quite  a  liberty  with  him,  "  But, 
sir,  I  had  a  good  woman's  reason  for  it,  which  I  will 
explain  not  to-night,  but,  as  the  first  act  of  conciliation,  I 
have  taken  you  myself.     Now, sir,  are  you  satisfied?" 

"Could  I,  if  I  would,  madam,  refuse  to  follow  any 
path  lighted  by  the  bright  genius  of  Alabama's  fairest 
daughter." 

"  Indeed !  I  thank  you  most  truly,  and  think  too,  that 
you  should  thank  me  for  the  change  I  have  made,  as  it  has 
certainly  added  even  to  the  usual  brilliancy  of  your  fancy ; 
or  have  you  thrown  out  similar  scintillations  before  the 
admiring  gaze  of  Margaret?" 

"I  can't  say  that  I  have:  the  present  is  rather  the  more 
inspiring  occasion." 


348  BLOOM    AND    BKIER. 

"You  improve,  Mr.  Stafford.  Shall  I  inform  Miss 
Sedley  of  your  brilliant  corruscations?" 

"Oh!  for  heaven's  sake,  no,"  said  he,  with  a  laugh. 

"Then,  as  the  condition  of  my  silence,  I  impose  upon 
you  the  obligation  of  keeping  up  the  strain :  you  have  now 
spoiled  me,  and  I  must  have  more  of  the  same  delicate 
nourishment." 

"You  should  never  need  it,  madam,  if  my  mind  could 
only  equal  my  heart." 

"  Very  handsomely  said,  Mr.  Stafford." 

"And  were  I  a  Chaldean"  he  again  responded,  "I 
should  be  at  a  loss  to  decide  which  star  to  worship :  the 
brilliancy  of  either  so  dazzles  my  sight." 

"Come,  Mr.  Stafford,  no  s%-scraping  with  an  old  lady, 
nor  .will  I  permit  you  to  take  your  eye  off  of  the  bright 
particular  star,  that  already  attracts  your  mortal  gaze  and 
worship ;  and  let  me,  in  sober  earnest,  explain  to  you  why 
I  made  these  changes :  which,  in  few  words,  was  to  show 
o/"  Margaret  Sedley  to  the  husband  of  my  old  friend  Mary 
Gray  —  and  himself,  Mr.  Ray  says,  a  man  of  the  first  order 
of  mind.  Now,  sir,  I  thought  you  would  take  as  great 
pleasure  in  that  thing  as  myself" 

The  promenade  was  continued  for  some  time,  during 
which  Mrs.  Ray,  aware  of  the  liberty  she  had  taken,  made 
it  a  point  to  entertain  young  Stafford  ;  and  elaborating  all 
the  passing  subjects  of  the  evening  with  the  highest  con- 
versational art,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  she  so  far  suc- 
ceeded as  to  give  the  libert}^  she  had  taken  all  the  features 
of  an  elegant  favor. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Brandon  had  glided  into  a  pleasing 
conversation  with  Miss  Sedley,  when  the  latter,  in  reply  to 
a  remark  of  his  concerning  Mrs.  Ray,  said : 

"Aunt  will  have  her  way  in  such  matters,  and  we  have 
all  learned  to  give  way  when  we  discover  her  intentions." 

"There  is  no  apology  due  to  me.  Miss  Sedley,  particularly 
as  she  promised  me  much  pleasure  in  your  company." 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  349 

"Ah,  I  fear  she  has  contracted  too  heavily  for  me;  I  was 
satisfied  of  some  design  on  her  part,  in  regard  to  me." 

" No,  no;  not  more  than  you  will  be  able  to  comply  with. 
You  have  two  sureties  that  you  will  not  fail :  one  is,  that 
she  knew  exactly  what  to  promise,  and  the  other  is,  that  I 
shall  only  demand  the  most  natural  and  easy  performances  ; 
for  instance,  an  occasional  smile  from  your  happy  face,  or  a 
merry  glance  now  and  then  from  your  bright  young  eyes. 
These  will  meet  the  full  measure  of  my  demands,  but  to 
increase  my  admiration,  you  can  add  whatever  else  you 
wish." 

"I  shall  give  you,  sir,  the  full  benefit  of  both,  and  con- 
sider that  I  have  made  most  excellent  use  of  them.  But 
really,  Mr.  Brandon,  I  should  feel  some  apprehension  before 
you,  after  hearing  your  brilliant  reply  to  Colonel  Haywood, 
if  I  did  not  in  some  sort  look  upon  you  as  a  family  friend, 
if  not  one  of  my  own.  Uncle  has  done  but  little  else  than 
sound  your  praises  for  three  days  past." 

"  I  am  more  fortunate  than  I  had  a  right  to  expect,  and 
in  my  heart  thank  Ray  for  the  flatteHng  complaisance ; 
and  you  must  allow  me.  Miss  Sediey,  to  dispel  whatever 
there  is  of  apprehension  in  your  feelings,  by  assuring  vou 
that  while  with  an  old  friend  of  Ray  —  it  is  only  optional 
with  yourself  to  say  whether  or  not  —  you  shall  be  with  one 
of  your  own,"  and  then  with  his  old  gallantry  of  manner, 
continued:  "I  already  envy  Mr.  Staflford  his  youth  and 
genius,  as  I  should  then  aspire  to  be  esteemed  even  more 
than  friend." 

"Your  gallantry  conceals  your  years,  and  your  genius 
stands  for  itself,  Mr.  Brandon ;  you  therefore  have  an  even 
start  with  Mr.  Stafford,  at  these  two  points,  at  least." 

"  You  banter  me  then,  youi;g  lady,  to  enter  the  lists  with 
your  admirers?" 

"Oh!  no,"  she  laughingly  replied  ;  "  I  did  not  mean  so 
much :  for  with  all  my  vanity,  I  cannot  expect  to  be  re- 
80 


350  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

membered  beyond  this  evening.  Kot  altogether  mal-apro- 
pos,  Mr.  Brandon  —  let  me  tell  you  that  my  uncle  never 
passes  a  day  without  giving  us  a  chapter  of  laudation  on 
yourself,  and  never  ceases  to  be  surprised  in  regard  to  your 
course  on  the  question  of  Secession.  At  college,  he  says, 
you  were  the  wildest,  gayest,  most  reckless,  and  most  talented 
member  of  your  class,  or  that  he  ever  knew ;  but  that  he 
now  finds  you  quite  the  reverse  of  all  this,  except  your 
talents.  In  the  last  particular,  he  gives  you  great  credit 
still,  and  says,  you  came  near  defeating  the  question." 

"  Yes ;  I  am  obliged  to  him  for  his  good  opinion  ;  and  he 
has  expressed  to  me  his  surprise  at  the  apparent  change, 
and  at  what  he  calls  my  *  caution.'  I  have  replied  to  him, 
that  my  dissent  was  more  than  ordinary  caution  —  it  was 
thought;  and  I  have  expressed  the  same  surprise  at  him, 
too.  I  now  find  him  calmly  riding  on  the  wild  waves  of 
popular  clamor,  and  I  fear  will  assist  in  'wrecking  the  for- 
tunes of  us  all.  At  college,  he  was  quite  as  noted  for  his 
prudence,  as  I  was  for  the  reverse." 

"  Yes  ;  I  do  not  think  his  present  course  the  suggestion 
of  his  real  character ;  but,  having  been  in  association  with 
the  Northern  politicians,  fathomed  their  character,  and 
discovered  their  purposes,  he  has  grown  to  think  it  both 
humiliating  and  dangerous  to  remain  longer  in  unison  with 
them ;  and  since  that  cowardly  attempt  at  massacre  by  old 
Brown,  he  appears  to  have  no  control  over  his  temper,  and 
holds  the  Xorthern  people  equally  guilty  —  as  they  en- 
dorsed it." 

"  He  has  had  no  greater  apprehension  than  I  have,  nor 
any  greater  disgust,  for  the  character  which  the  North  is 
developing ;  for,  indeed,  they  seem  to  be  relapsing  to  their 
witch-burning.  Blue-law  period ;  and  he  has  doubtless  had 
his  temper  more  disturbed  than  mine  has  been :  for  that 
very  reason  I  claim  to  be  the  calmer  judge  of  the  real 
nature,  import,  and  result  of  this  measure.     They  could 


BLOOM    AND    B  11 1  E  K  .  351 

possibly  do  no  more  than  provoJce  us,  while  we  held  the 
advantage  of  being  in  the  Union.  AVe  could  retaliate,  and 
in  that  instance,  we  did  do  it  most  terribly.  There  is  no 
people  on  the  earth  more  vulnerable,  from  a  social,  politi- 
cal, and  even  an  intellectual  point,  than  the  Northern 
people,  and  who  defend  themselves  so  poorly.  They  are 
not  cowardly,  but  have  no  lofty,  noble  sentiments,  nor  that 
natural  appreciation  of  chivalry,  to  know  how  and  where 
to  resent,  or  when  and  where  to  attack.  They  are  not  so 
mean,  as  small  and  conceited ;  they  are  fanatics,  and  think 
themselves  Christians;  wranglers,  and  think  themselves 
philosophers ;  they  are  muddled  in  their  ratiocinations, 
and  think  themselves  metaphysical." 

*'  Could  anything  good  ever  grow  out  of  such  relation- 
ships, or  such  retaliations  as  you  speak  of?" 

"  Yes  ;  causes  would  in  time  have  worked  out  their  effects 
m  a  natural  manner  —  we  would  have  fallen  apart  in  less 
than  twenty  years.  Remedies  v.'ould  have  grown  out  of 
the  very  errors  that  we  complain  of,  and,  then,  the  South 
would  have  been  in  the  ascendant.  Passion  must  not  take 
the  place  of  reason.  Statesmanship  deals  with  the  head, 
not  with  the  heart ;  at  least,  only  as  the  heart  is  reflected 
through  the  head." 

"  You  think,  then,  that  we  have  had  provocation  suffi- 
cient ;  but  that  public  policy  should  have  dictated  some 
other  course?" 

"  Yes ;  secession  is  the  poisoned  chalice,  which  they  have 
long  desired  us  to  swallow  from.  The  Northern  people 
know  and  so  do  we,  if  we  did  not  give  way  to  temper,  that 
the  Government  cannot  be  broken  up  at  this  time,  and  in 
that  way;  but  they  hate  us  for  wishing  it,  simply  because, 
the  wish  is  a  broad-world-wide  reflection  upon  them.  They 
wish  us  to  attempt  it,  however,  in  order  to  get  satisfaction 
for  the  disgust  and  contempt  which  we  have  long  felt  and 
shown  for  them.     They  know  the  vast   resources  of  the 


352  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Government,  which  if  left  in  their  hands  will  make  it 
easy  to  crush  us.  They  would  then  fasten  the  most  obnox- 
ious laws  upon  us,  and,  above  all,  humiliate  us  through 
the  negro.  The  Northern  people  —  I  speak  of  them  as  a 
class,  not  as  individuals  —  are  just  of  that  character  which 
can  only  be  elevated  in  proportion  to  our  humiliation;  and 
when  they  get  the  j^ower,  as  they  now  will,  they  will  push 
measures  in  that  direction  to  the  furthest  extreme." 

"  Yes  ;  your  remarks  in  the  Convention  were  made  from 
that  stand-point,  and  made  a  very  serious  impression," 
said  the  handsome  girl,  as  she  turned  her  lovely  face  full 
upon  him. 

"  I  have  now,"  continued  Brandon,  "  but  one  hope  for 
the  South,  and  that  is,  that  after  the  destruction  of  slavery, 
it  will  turn  its  attention  to  manvfacturiug.  She  has  every 
possible  advantage  of  the  North,  in  climate,  timber,  water- 
power,  minerals,  and  the  production  of  all  the  raw  mate- 
rials; these  facts  will  be  developed  after  a  time,  and  change 
the  entire  track  of  wealth  and  commerce  in  this  country. 
But  violence  throws  nature  off  the  track;  natural  causes 
work  their  natural  ends,  better  and  more  speedily  than  we 
can  force  them.  The  present  moment  will  throw  us  back 
many,  many  years,  both  in  wealth,  power,  and  improvement." 

Brandon  seeing  Mrs.  Bay  take  a  seat,  proposed  to  Miss 
Sedley  that  he  now  return  her  to  Mr.  Stafford. 


CHAPTER  YII. 

"  A  skirmish  of  wit  between  them." 

WHEN  Brandon  returned  to  ]\Irs.  Bay,  he  apologized  to 
Stafford,  by  saying  that  he  not  only  apologized,  but 
owed  him  a  double  apology,  first  for  depriving  him  of  his 
beautiful  friend,  and  next,  for  using  the  occasion  in  an 
effort  to  proselyte  her. 


BLOOM     AND     BKIER.  353 

"  I  will  not  say,  Mr.  Brandon,  that  you  owe  me  an  apology 
for  the  first  act,  but  cannot  say  so  much  for  the  second,  as 
Korth  Alabama  is  but  poorly  represented  here  in  patriot- 
ism, at  best.  It  would  be  an  indifferent  report  to  make  of 
Miss  Sedley,  as  she  is  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  brightest 
stars  that  float  upon  our  rather  dubious  skies." 

"  I  am  truly  obliged  to  North  Alabama,  Mr.  Stafford, 
for  placing  me  in  so  proud  a  galaxy,  for  I  really  did  not 
seek  the  honor,  and  wear  it  a  little  awkwardly,  I  fear,"  she 
replied. 

"  Ah,  Miss  Sedley,  I  fear  you  are  about  to  yield  your 
noble  position.  Mr.  Brandon  must,  indeed,  have  exerted 
great  influence  in  the  short  time  he  was  with  you." 

"  Your  remarks  require  a  double  answer,  Mr.  Stafford. 
In  the  first  place,  I  have  but  few  of  the  prerequisites  for 
even  a  female  politician ;  I  am  not  persistent  enough  in 
my  opinions ;  I  cannot  maintain  them  for  the  sake  of  popu- 
larity, when  I  fear  myself  in  the  wrong.  Nor  am  I  sufficiently 
ambitious  of  notoriety  —  as  notoriety  is  all  that  a  woman 
can  acquire  in  that  field.  I  already  think  that  arrange- 
ments should  be  made  to  send  me  back.  I  am  getting 
anxious  to  leave  this  whirl  of  excitement,  and  return  to 
retirement,  from  sheer  unfitness  for  any  other  position. 
This  confession  is  quite  mortifying,  but  I  believe  correct." 

She  had  alternately  turned  from  one  to  the  other  of  the 
two  gentlemen,  while  playfully  making  these  remarks,  with 
her  eyes  sparkling  with  mischief,  and  a  smile  playing  about 
her  mouth,  and  evidently  enjoyed  the  effect  that  her  words 
had  upon  Stafford,  which  cannot  be  appreciated  by  those 
who  do  not  know  the  anxiety  which  was  felt  to  secure 
female  favor  during  the  first  days  of  the  Confederacy. 

Brandon  saw  that  she  was  talking  more  to  tantalize 
Stafford,  than  with  any  real  seriousness,  and  therefore  paid 
but  little  attention  to  her  words,  while  he  was  struck  with 
her  uncommon  beauty,  and  said  to  her : 
30* 


354  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

"  If  there  is  such  beauty  in  jour  regrets,  Miss  Sedley, 
what  the  effect  would  be  of  more  generous  feelings,  and 
really  correct  opinions,  is  a  high  question  of  both  morals 
and  art.  It  occurs  to  me  that  even  I  would  be  tempted  to 
regret  the  early  frost  on  my  locks,  were  it  not  there  is  one 
at  my  humble  home,  who  breathes  around  me  the  atmos- 
phere of  love  and  beauty." 

"Most  gallantly  spoken,  Mr.  Brandon,  but  the  qualifi- 
cation destroys  the  force.  That  must  be  modified  if  you 
expect  to  charm  me." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Mrs.  Ray,  "  I  shall  not  permit  even 
platonics,  in  the  absence  of  my  friend  Mary  Gray." 

"Do  you  speak  of  Mrs.  Brandon,  aunt?" 

"  Yes ;  an  old  friend,  of  whom  you  have  often  heard  me 
speak." 

"  Certainly,  I  have,  but  I  had  not  connected  the  two." 

"Yes,  she  is  Mrs.  Brandon." 

"  Then,  for  such  considerations,  I  must  decline  further 
designs  upon  you,  Mr.  Brandon,"  affecting  surprise  at  the 
information  she  had  just  received,  and  adding,  "  Oh,  Mr. 
Brandon,  what  cruel  work  you  might  have  been  guilty  of! 
I  should  far  sooner  have  taken  you  for  a  gay  Lothario, 
than  inchoate  patriarch." 

"I  beg  pardon  for  the  unintentional  deception.  Miss 
Sedley ;  and  now  permit  me  to  restore  you  one  who  may 
more  nearly  approach  the  character  of  a  Lothario  than 
myself  Mr.  Stafford,  will  you  let  me  have  the  pleasure  of 
returning  your  half-lost  treasure." 

Pretending  to  some  hesitation,  this  gentleman  replied : 

"I  suppose  I  must;  but  the  lustre  of  the  diamond  is  a 
good  deal  soiled,  by  her  own  confession.  Miss  Sedley,  will 
you  return  to  your  allegiance,  and  to  my  care ;  for  —  if 
you  will  permit  me  to  make  a  very  tender  quotation,  '  1 
know  that  I  love  thee,  whatever  thou  art.'  " 

"Ah!    Mr.  Stafford,  had  you  not  better  reserve  your 


BLOOM     AND    BlilER.  355 

tender  confessions  for  a  more  private  occasion?  Is  this  your 
first,  or  your  last?"  said  Mrs.  Ray. 

"My  first,  madam,  of  course;  the  List,  I  shall  take  your 
advice  in,  and  reserve  for  a  '  more  private  occasion. '  " 

"  I  am  equally  delighted,  Mr.  Stafford,  with  your  sym- 
pathy, your  poetry,  and  your  confessions;  and  give  you 
the  evidence  of  my  sincerity  in  accepting  your  offer  to 
receive  me.  But,  Mr.  Brandon,  I  had  scarcely  thought  that 
you  -svould  display  so  ready  and  so  ingenious  a  facility  in 
giving  me  up." 

"You  mistake  me,  fair  lady.  After  hearing  the  confes- 
sions of  Mr.  Stafford,  and  seeing  the  evident  pleasure  they 
afforded  you,  it  is  I  who  have  the  right  to  complain  ;  and 
you  must  further  allow  me  to  indicate  the  extent  of  my 
indignation,  by  asking  him  to  exchange  places  with  me," 
at  the  same  time  rising,  and  offering  ]Mr.  Stafford  his  seat. 
This  exchange  brought  him  to  the  side  of  Mrs.  Sheldon, 
who  "vvas  conversing  with  Ray. 

"Ah!  Mr.  Brandon,"  said  Miss  Sedley,  "that  is  insult 
to  injury  —  *Ossa  upon  Pelion'  —  and  leaves  no  room  for 
conciliation." 

"  I  will  leave  the  whole  matter  to  Mr.  Stafford,  and  if  he 
thinks  any  amende  due  to  you,  I  will  immediately  return 
to  your  side." 

"No,  no,"  said  Stafford,  laughing;  "I  do  not  think  the 
matter  requires  the  least  explanation  of  the  kind  —  sup- 
pose you  let  the  affair  rest  at  what  it  is  at, '  quiescat  in  pace.' 
A  general  amnesty  is  the  best  method  of  i-estoring  peace." 

This  change,  placing  Brandon  by  the  side  of  Mrs.  Shel- 
don, the  latter  asked  in  an  undertone,  how  he  was  pleased 
•with  the  North  Alabama  belle. 

"  Very  much.  She  is  really  very  beautiful,  and  I  should 
think,  a  very  superior  girl." 

"  Yes  ;  she  is  all  that  you  say  ;  and  you  will  be  delighted 
with  her,  should  you  become  more  familiarly  acquainted 


356  BLOOM    AND     BRIER. 

with  her.  She  is  very  finely  educated,  modest  and  gentle,  and 
yet  very  spirited,  and  entirely  free  from  affectation.  I  was 
with  her  at  Washington  last  winter,  when  she  attracted  the 
admiration  of  every  one  who  met  with  her.  It  is  said,  and 
I  presume  truly,  that  she  is  engaged  to  Mr.  Stafford,  who 
is  himself  a  young  man  of  fine  mind,  education,  and  for- 
tune ;  but  has  the  reputation  of  being  icild,  and  I  think 
she  holds  him  under  probation." 

"  Yes  ;  I  discovered  something  of  the  kind.  But  your 
mentioning  Washington,  reminds  me  to  ask  how  the  South- 
ern ladies  will  feel  at  giving  up  the  glittering  attractions 
of  Washington,  for  the  rude  scenes  and  life  of  a  revolu- 
tionary capital." 

"  To  speak  sincerely,  Mr.  Brandon,  I  have  not  the  glow- 
ing anticipations  which  are  generally  entertained  by  our 
friends.  Mr.  Sheldon,  too,  is  far  from  being  clear  of  appre- 
hension for  the  future.  This  course  does  not  meet  his 
approval,  yet  he  says,  the  South  has  had  to  bear  with  so 
many  different  kinds  of  indignity,  that  he  holds  it  excusable 
for  almost  any  course  she  may  adopt.  But  to  reply  to  your 
question  directly,  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  give  up  the 
gayeties  of  Washington,  and  never  go  there  again.  A  few 
years  since,  society  there  was  of  a  very  high  order,  and  the 
winters  were  very  gay  and  attractive,  but  it  has  changed 
very  greatly.  For  several  years  past,  the  North  has  been 
sending  a  certain  sort  of  fashionable  society  there,  without 
vitality  or  nature  in  it,  and  to  a  Southerner  very  disagree- 
able, and  difficult  to  describe — jejune,  parvenue, -possessors 
of  sudden  wealth,  with  no  higher  lineage  than  descending 
from  some  successful  inventor  of  stoves  or  mowing-machines, 
or  at  the  best,  from  some  passenger  on  the  Mayflower.  In 
England,  they  would  be  styled  cockneyish.  I  do  not  con- 
demn the  South  for  her  temper,  yet  I  cannot  endorse  the 
wisdom  of  her  course;  but  I  am  a  Southerner,  and  what- 
ever the  South  does,  right  or  wrong,  I  shall  sustain  in  all 
the  ways  that  a  woman  can." 


BLOOM    AND     BRIER.  357 

"We  are  not  far  apart,  either  in  feeling  or  opinion  ;  but 
for  the  life  of  me,  I  can  see  no  possible  chance  of  success, 
•which  is  the  criterion  of  right  in  the  political  world.  The 
j)hysical  inequalities  are  too  numerous  and  too  great;  and 
as  to  principle,  there  is  no  such  precept  in  the  \Yhole  roll 
of  state-craft,  as  the  right  of  one  integral  portion  of  a 
government  to  withdraw  from  the  remainder  at  pleasure. 
The  idea  is  at  variance  with  the  spirit  and  organic  law  of 
all  government,  stability,  and  the  duty  and  right  of  self- 
protection. 

"  We  are  told  that  there  will  be  no  war.  This  is  a  mis- 
take, and  however  successful  the  South  may  be  in  the  bat- 
tles of  the  first  period,  it  will  be  unsuccessful  in  the  ivar, 
from  simple  exhaustion  ;  even  victories  will  ruin  her,  while 
the  persistent  power  of  an  established  government  can 
easily  bear  up  under  protracted  disaster." 


CHAPTER    YIII. 

"Now  call  we  our  high  court  of  Parliament; 
And  let  us  choose  such  limbs  of  noble  counsel, 
That  the  great  body  of  our  State  may  go 
In  equal  rank  with  the  best-governed  Nation." 

EARLY  in  the  Spring  of  1861,  thirteen  of  the  States 
known  as  the  Slave  States,  had,  in  some  sort,  seceded 
from  the  Union,  and  formed  The  Southern  Confed- 
eracy, of  which  Richmond  soon  became  the  capital. 

It  was  now  plain  to  both  Governments  that  they  had 
drifted  into  war  —  contrary  to  the  expectation  of  either. 
Fort  Sumter  had  already  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Con- 
federates, after  enduring  a  most  terrible  siege,  and  the  whole 
South  was  all  ablaze  with  martial  excitement. 


358  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

jNIr.  Buchanan  was  averse  to  war,  and  evidently  hoped 
for  a  reconciliation.  A  peace  convention  of  prominent 
citizens  from  both  sections  had  met  at  Washington  with  a 
view  to  arranging  the  difficulty,  in  the  last  days  of  his  ad- 
ministration and  by  his  advice ;  but  the  Korth,  arrogant 
under  the  triumphant  success  of  Lincoln,  made  as  arrogant 
demands,  while  the  South,  growing  every  moment  more 
chafed,  was  in  no  condition  to  accept  unjust  propositions. 
The  North,  falling  back  upon  her  superior  numbers,  and 
the  strength  of  the  position  she  would  gain  by  the  naked 
secession  of  the  South,  grew  every  hour  more  imperious, 
while  the  South,  at  every  such  evidence,  grew  firmer  in 
her  hate,  and  confidently  fell  back  upon  her  historic  chiv- 
alry. It  was  the  IS^orman  face  to  face  with  the  Saxon, 
but  with  history  and  the  facts  reversed.  The  moral  ele- 
ments were  the  same ;  a  thousand  years  had  not  aifected 
them,  but  the  occasion  vras  changed  and  new.  Present  re- 
sults, so  far  from  modifying  these  Norman  and  Saxon  dif- 
ferences, have  only  intensified  them.  Let  the  future  make 
its  own  record. 

But  as  we  have  said.  Fort  Sumter  had  fallen,  and  the 
South  blazed  with  impatience  for  the  unequal  struggle.  It 
was  the  martial  heart  of  the  South  moved  to  its  deepest 
depths.  The  note  of  defiance  rung  through  the  land,  and 
her  people  gathered  together  at  the  sound,  wdth  souls  that 
felt  no  fear,  and  an  enthusiasm  that  courted  the  fray.  This 
excitement  was  outside  of  all  party  feeling.  Even  those 
who  had  bitterly  opposed  secession,  and  were  still  opposed 
to  it  in  opinion,  now  rushed  wildly  to  arms.  The  wrongs 
and  insults  w^hich  they  had  long  borne  with,  now  seemed 
uppermost  in  their  minds,  and  who  or  by  what  means  the 
contest  had  been  precipitated,  were  matters  of  secondary 
consideration.  Had  those  who  had  been  in  the  political 
lead  of  the  people,  been  themselves  actuated  by  less  parti- 
san feeling,  and  had  met  the   out-gush-  of  this  popular 


B  L  O  O  M     A  N  D     BRIER.  359 

enthusiasm  on  the  part  of  the  people,  in  the  same  generous 
spirit,  the  "  Bonnie  Blue  Flag"  would  this  day,  whether 
for  weal  or  woe,  have  proudly  floated  over  the  loveliest 
land,  and  the  proudest,  noblest  race  of  men  and  women, 
too,  who  walk  the  earth,  and  who  even  in  their  fallen  con- 
dition, grace  the  records  of  the  werld  with  all  the  magnifi- 
cence of  chivalry,  and  the  loveliest  pictures  of  heroism. 

But  old  political  prejudices,  favoritism,  speculation,  and 
beyond  all,  the  abstractions  of  constitutional  law,  crept  in, 
and  marred  the  force,  which  even  the  simple  cause  itself 
possessed.  Arguments  always  cool  ardor,  and  check  the 
impulses  of  the  heart,  and  Richmond  early  became  the 
giadiatory  field  for  second  and  third-rate  contestants,  on 
points  which  should  never  have  arisen.  The  occasion  was 
revolutionary ;  revolutions  are  despotisms,  and  it  is  their 
duty  to  compel  all  men  to  bow  to  them.  Power  should  not 
be  divided,  and  Mr.  Davis  was  divided  between  thousands. 
God  knows  how^  many.  Anywhere  in  Europe  the  thing 
would  have  succeeded,  where  the  people  had  not  been  pes- 
tered by  democracy  and  discussion.  It  was  democracy  that 
defeated  the  South — a  social  condition  foreign  to  her  whole 
nature,  but  which  had  gradually  slipt  upon  her  shoulders, 
without  her  knowing  when,  \Yhy,  or  how ;  her  natural  aris- 
tocracy of  character  would  have  led  her  to  success. 

On  this  occasion  the  South  evinced  her  true  character. 
The  masses  wanted  leaders,  and  when  they  obtained  them, 
drove  them  on  before.  Any  man  of  the  least  influence, 
either  in  intelligence,  character,  or  wealth,  could,  and  did, 
raise  either  his  company,  regiment,  or  battalion.  To  these 
facts  Brandon  was  no  exception,  but  immediately  raised  a 
company  in  his  neighborhood,  and  reported  to  head-quar- 
ters. In  the  formation  of  a  regiment  from  single  companies, 
who  had  similarly  reported,  he  was  unanimously  elected 
Colonel. 

Colonel  Campbell,  now  a  prominent  man  in  a  near  part 


360  BLOOM     AND     BRIER. 

of  the  State,  passed  through  the  same  process,  but  went  on 
to  higher  positions,  until  reaching  a  Brigadiership,  and  in 
this  relation  to  the  army,  went  to  the  seat  of  war.  Staf- 
ford, in  North  Alabama,  had  also  been  promoted  to  a 
Colonelcy,  and  while  in  Virginia,  had  his  regiment  trans- 
ferred to  General  Campbell's  brigade. 

General  Campbell's  son,  McKenzie  Campbell,  who  had 
so  attracted  the  attention  of  Mrs.  Ray  in  the  ball-room,  by 
his  father's  permission,  had  remained  in  his  company,  and 
been  chosen  third  lieutenant,  and  was  now  in  Brandon's 


About  or  near  midsummer  of  that  year,  the  Federal 
Government  began  moving  heavy  forces  on  Richmond,  the 
REBEL  capital ;  which  rendered  it  necessary  for  the  Con- 
federacy to  evacuate  Norfolk,  and  come  to  its  support; 
and  having  already  advanced  beyond,  met  with  Lincoln's 
army  on  the  famous  field  of  Manassas.  And  there,  the 
Cavalier  met  the  Puritan!  and  made  one  other  glorious 
record  of  the  differences  between  the  tivo  people.  What 
that  record  is,  the  world  already  knows  I — will  forever 
know !  Hate  cannot  alter  history,  nor  despotism  obliterate 
deeds.  There  it  is !  proudly  tracing  its  own  story  on  the 
old  walls  of  time,  and  indelible  as  eternity !  Try  your 
blade  again,  Puritan,  and  refute  the  record  if  ye  can ! 

Campbell's  brigade,  and  Brandon's  regiment  particularly, 
had  attracted  attention  during  the  whole  day,  by  its  re- 
peated engagements,  persistent  gallantry,  and  heavy  losses. 

Young  McKenzie  Campbell  had  commanded,  boy  as 
he  was,  his  company  during  the  latter  part  of  this  terrible 
day,  by  the  fall  of  all  his  superior  officers ;  and  now  felt  all 
the  pride  of  a  young  soldier,  who  had  won  his  sword  by 
victory. 

About  the  time  the  last  act  of  the  dreadful  drama  had 
transpired,  General  Campbell  rode  up  to  his  youthful  son 
on  the  field,  and  said: 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  361 

"You  have  acted  nobly  to-day,  my  boy." 

"That 's  enough,  ftither,"  replied  the  merry  but  powder- 
burnt  young  officer,  interrupting  him.  "Next  to  my  sweet- 
heart's smile,  I  appreciate  yours,  sir." 

"Ah!  you  will  never  be  serious,  you  young  dog." 

"  No,  sir ;  not  while  I  have  so  much  to  be  proud  of,  and 
to  rejoice  over." 

"  Then,  take  care  of  yourself,  my  son,"  and  dashing  a  tear 
from  his  eye,  rode  on. 

When  night  had  set  in,  and  the  Southern  army  had  re- 
turned from  pursuing  the  fleeing  Federal  forces ;  and  the 
hundreds  of  amateur  spectators  who  had  come  to  witness 
the  victory  of  their  army,  (who,  however  pious  f  had  no 
objection  to  the  shedding  of  blood,  provided  it  was  not  their 
own,  and  further  provided,  it  flowed  from  Southern  hearts,) 
lay  sleeping  around  their  little  camp-lights  with  their  half- 
eaten  rations  at  their  side,  young  Campbell  was  sitting 
there  alone,  writing  an  account  of  the  affair  to  Alice 
Hunter. 

"  Battle-fikld  of  Manassas,  July  Zd,  1S61. 

"  My  Sweet  Cousin  :  —  And  who  has  a  better  right  to 
say  sweet  cousin  than  I,  who  have  this  day  won  my  knightly 
spurs?  so  cousin  Henry  Brandon  says,  and  he  is  a  judge. 
Well,  sweet  cousin  —  I'll  say  it  again,  because  I  am  away 
from  you,  and  not  afraid  to  say  it  —  I  have  sat  down,  with 
a  piece  of  broken  gun-carriage  for  my  table,  and  sundry 
such  articles  for  my  light,  to  write  you  some  account  of  my 
first  battle,  which  I  promised  to  do  if  I  should  survive  it, 
which  you  used  teasingly  to  tell  me  I  would  never  fight.  But 
I  have  fought  it,  won  it,  and  not  been  killed,  and  now  feel 
almost  inclined  to  write  as  CVesar  did  to  the  Roman  Senate, 
*  Veni,  vidi,  vicif'  and  if  I  were  writing  to  any  one  but  a 
girl,  I  believe  I  should  be  tempted  —  anyway,  to  rival  his 
pomposity.  Either  to  girl  or  senate,  I  shall  be  tempted 
to  do  so,  if  I  shall  ever  again  come  off  so  fortunately. 

"Just  for  the  present,  however,  I  will  not  assume  such 
vast  proportions,  and  content  myself  by  merely  giving  you 
some  few  incidents  of  this  terrific  day,  in  which  I  acted  up 
31 


362  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

to  all  my  duty  so  far  as  I  was  able.  You  must  not  expect 
so  full  an  account,  as  you  would  doubtless  like  to  see,  or  I 
would  like  to  give,  as  I  am  very  greatly  fatigued,  and  not 
over  the  excitement  even  yet.  But  I  hope  to  meet  you 
before  long,  and,  after  kissing  your  rosy  cheek,  will  fight  my 
battle  over  again. 

"  But  let  me  begin  this  wild,  dreadful  story,  before  sleep 
asserts  its  authority.  For  several  days  we  had  seen  that  the 
Federals  intended  fighting  us,  Avith  an  army  very  superior 
to  ours  both  in  numbers  and  appointments ;  but  as  we  be- 
lieved that  we  could  whip  two  for  one,  at  the  very  least,  felt 
no  alarm. 

"This  morning,  some  time  after  day,  a  pretty  heavy 
firing  began  on  their  side  about  half  a  mile  to  our  left, 
which  was  soon  returned  from  ours.  The  firing  rapidly 
extended,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  our  regiment  was  into 
it ;  and  your  humble  servant  found  himself,  for  the  first 
time  since  being  in  the  army,  under  heavy  fire.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  every  man  in  the  Yankee  army  was  firing  ac  me 
individually,  which,  you  may  imagine,  made  me  feel  a  little 
curious ;  balls  and  cannon  -  shot  flew  almost  as  thicK  as 
hail.  I  got  accustomed  to  it  after  a  while,  but  oh  !  cousin, 
I  could  not  describe  to  you  my  feelings  for  the  lasc  ten 
minutes  before  actually  going  into  the  engagement,  if  I 
had  every  word  in  all  the  languages  of  the  world.  The 
sun  had  risen  beautifully,  and  was  as  calm  and  glowing  as 
if  all  unconscious  of  the  suffering  which  men  were  about 
to  inflict  on  each  other.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  by  the 
men,  and  in  their  eyes  there  seemed  to  be  no  capacity  of 
sight  for  external  objects.  Their  vision,  if  it  may  be  called 
such,  appeared  to  be  coldly  turned  within,  or  abstractedly 
dwelling  on  those  who  were  far  away,  never  probably  co  be 
seen  again  with  mortal  sight.  Such  vacancy  of  expression 
I  never  saw  men  wear  before,  and,  oh !  that  I  could  never 
see  it  again. 

"The  first  cannon  fired  in  our  front  was  an  electric  shock, 
and  brought  us  up  to  a  full  realization  of  our  condition. 
For  a  very  few  moments,  the  apprehension  was  terrible ; 
indeed,  I  was  no  less  really  frightened  than  every  one  ehe, 
but  this  soon  passed  away,  and  the  work  of  death  began  in 
earnest.  After  this  there  was  no  fear,  no  anxiety,  no  more 
care  for  self;  these  were  all  forgotten  in  the  a,wful  scenes 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  363 

nround  us.  Very  soon  the  strife  raged  mortally;  the  dead 
lying  around  us,  and  the  wounded  i'ulling  and  groaning  in 
the  agonies  of  death,  while  the  living,  with  teeth  clenched, 
and  with  the  rage  of  fiends,  moved,  fired,  and  loaded  in 
silence.  AVe  frequently  changed,  and  were  compelled  to 
change  position  during  the  day,  and  it  was  only  during  such 
times  that  we  had  any  respite. 

"These  scenes  lasted  for  many  hours,  with  all  the  phases 
of  an  inferior  army  fighting  one  vastly  its  superior  in 
strength.  We  felt  this  inequality  very  often  during  the 
day,  and  at  times  it  appeared  that  we  would  be  overwhelmed 
in  spite  of  ourselves.  Our  army  would  appear  to  have  done 
all  that  men  could  do  —  waver,  reel,  and  tall  back  —  yet 
their  spirit  never  abated,  and  with  every  giving  back,  there 
came  a  revival  of  the  desperate  resolution,  to  be  victorious 
or  to  die.  Observing  this,  I  felt  that  it  was  impossible  for 
mortal  power  to  conquer  us,  short  of  extermination. 

"These  shifting  fortunes  continued  through  the  entire 
day  —  rather  until  about  four  o'clock,  when,  Avithout  any 
appearance  of  extraordinary  cause,  the  Federals  were  seen 
to  give  way,  and  but  a  short  time  elapsed  before  a  panie 
ensued.  The  victory  was  ours  !  Crushing,  overwhelming, 
complete  !  A  more  perfect  rout  could  not  be  imagined, 
assuming  all  the  features  of  personal  cowardice.  Flying 
thus  from  men  only  half  their  number,  as  if  from  the  very 
wrath  to  come,  must  ever  be  a  most  humiliating  memory. 
But  what  is  one  person's  sorrow,  is  another's  joy,  I've 
heard,  and  my  heart  swelled  with  all  the  varying  emotions 
of  joy  and  pride,  and  even  exultation,  at  the  sight  of  the 
troops  of  a  people,  who,  for  years,  had  sought  to  insult  and 
injure  us,  and  at  length  had  invaded  our  country  with  a 
view  to  destroying  our  property,  and  our  homes,  made  to 
degrade  themselves  by  their  own  miserable  poltroonery ;  for 
certainly,  had  they  had  the  hearts  of  men  in  their  mean, 
boasting  breasts,  they  could  have  exterminated  us,  if  they 
could  not  conquer  us ;  and  even  now,  while  our  men  have 
had  a  hearty  laugh,  and  are  quietly  sleeping  on  the  battle- 
field, these  miserable  creatures  are  still  fleeing  from  them 
with  the  fright  of  hares. 

"  It  is  reported,  to-night,  that  some  of  our  forces,  among 
other  prisoners,  captured  a  little  copper-cent  sort  of  Con- ' 
gressraan,  who  had  come  to  witness  the  Puritan  victory. 


364  BLOOM     AND     BRIER. 

If  SO,  I  hope  General  Beauregard  will  refuse  to  treat  him 
as  a  prisoner  of  war,  but  order  a  corporal  to  whip  him  and 
turn  him  loose,  as  a  thiugr  utterly  unworthy  to  be  guarded 
by  a  Southern  soklier.  But  it  is  all  over  with,  and  I  am 
unhurt,  so  I  shall  not  get  in  a  bad  temper  with  Puritan 
amateurs. 

"  What  strange  things  turn  up  in  this  little  world  of 
ours  sometimes!  Just,"if  you  please,  think  of  a  country 
lad  from  the  far-away  South,  sitting,  at  midnight,  on  a 
battle-field,  with  no  human  sound  to  break  the  silence  that 
reigns  around  him,  except  the  soft,  slow  step  of  the  senti- 
nel on  his  lonely  round,  writing  some  account  of  the  awful 
scenes  of  an  awful  day,  by  the  dim  light  of  a  summer  camp- 
fire,  to  his  fair  young  cousin  at  her  distant  home,  who  he 
hopes  is  this  moment  quietly  sleeping,  and  sweetly  dream- 
ing of  him  who  has  thought  and  seen  her  lovely  face  ten 
thousand  times  during  the  terrible  day  that  has  passed. 
That  was  a  long  speech,  but  I  had  to  make  it.  So  here 
goes,  my  pretty  cousin,  for  something  else.  Ah,  yes  !  I  had 
nigh  forgot  to  tell  you  of  quite  a  romantic  —  so  I  may  call 
it  — incident  of  this  morning.  You  know  the  beautiful  gold 
locket  you  gave  me  containing  your  picture?  which,  of 
course,  t  wear  next  my  heart.  Well,  it  saved  my  life  to-day, 
and  after  this  fashion.  Now  every  word  I  shall  tell  you 
is  just  as  true  as  that  we  have  this  day  fought  the  battle 
of  Manassas.  No  imagination,  no  fiction,  no  story  about 
it  — for  what  else  had  your  sweet  little  picture  to  do,  but 
to  save  my  life  ?  It  could  not  fight.  But  let  me  tell  my 
story.  About  eleven  o'clock  I  was  struck  by  a  spent  ball, 
I  suppose,  Avhich  prostrated  me,  and  for  a  moment,  took 
my  breath,  and,  as  an  Irishman  would  say,  for  a  few 
seconds  thought  I  was  dead,  but  discovering  that  my  eyes 
were  open,  and  my  lungs  breathing,  concluded  to  rise,  and 
did  so  to  my  perfect  satisfaction  ;  but  still  supposing  myself 
badly  wounded,  thought  to  play  surgeon;  and  on  examina- 
tion found  no  damage  had  been  done,  except  that  your 
locket  had  been  battered  in.  The  whole  thing  flashed  upon 
me  in  an  instant,  and  I  went  on  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
The  whole  affair  did  not  go  through  one  minute,  I  don't 
suppose,  but  it  looked  to  me  like  two  years ;  but  need  I  tell 
you  that  I  pressed  the  little  guardian  angel  to  my  lips,  and 
thanked  it  for  its  presence  on  the  battle-field?  and  need  I 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  3G5 

tell  you  too,  that  it  is  now  open  before  nie  as  I  write,  with 
its  lovely  face  looking  as  laughingly  in  mine,  as  you  did 
the  day  that  you  hung  it  around  my  neck? 

"But,  heiglio  !  it  is  nearly  morning,  and  lam  too  tired  to 
write  more,  even  to  my  little  sweetheart  away  down  iu 
Dixie;  so  I  shall  close,  and  lie  down  where  I  am,  to  dream 
of  Alice,  home,  and  mother.  I  had  already,  before  be- 
ginning this  to  you,  written  a  few  lines  to  Colonel  Bran- 
don's wife  by  his  request,  and  also  a  short  letter  to  mother  ; 
but  this  is  intended  for  you  to  read  to  them  all,  except  in 
such  parts  as  —  you  know  what  I  mean  —  and  now,  good 
night ! 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"McK.  Campbell." 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"But  sorrow  returned  with  the  dawning  of  morn, 
And  the  voice  in  my  dreaming  melted  sadly  away." 

THE  electric  wires  flung  the  intelligence  of  this  great 
victory,  almost  as  soon  as  it  had  transpired,  from  one 
end  of  the  Confederacy  to  the  other,  yet  it  was  many  days 
before  the  details  of  it  became  known.     Young  Campbell's 

letter  was  the  first  received  at  ,  containing  anything 

like  particulars,  from  one  who  had  actually  participated  in 
it ;  and  Hunter's  house  was  thronged  for  several  days  by 
friends,  neighbors,  and  citizens,  to  hear  some  real  con- 
firmation and  details  of  the  affliir.  The  curiosity  seemed 
so  great,  that  Alice,  under  the  direction  of  her  father,  pre- 
pared it  for  the  press,  only  leaving  out  such  parts  as  we 
have  seen  were  intended  to  be  private. 

The  young  oflicer  w^as  so  generally  known,  and  the  spirit 
with  which  he  dashed  his  letter  was  so  accordant  with  the 
feelings  of  a  large  part  of  the  people,  that  the  letter  soon 
31* 


366  BLOOM     AND     BRIER. 

passed  into  the  columns  of  every  newspaper  in  the  State, 
each  one  making  its  own  laudatory  comments. 

It  was  now  believed  by  all  that  peace  would  follow,  some 
thinking  that  it  would  result  in  a  reconstruction  of  the 
Union,  while  the  larger  portion  were  satisfied  that  a  recog- 
nition of  the  Confederacy  would  necessarily  result  from  so 
overwhelming  a  victory.  All  desired  joeace,  and  all  rejoiced 
in  the  triumph  of  Southern  arms. 

A  day  or  two  after  young  Campbell  had  written,  Colonel 
Brandon  seized  a  stray  occasion  to  write  to  his  wife.  The 
letter  was  a  mere  running  one ;  but  we  subjoin  it,  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  the  feelings  of  Southern  people  at  this 
time,  even  among  those  who  had  opposed  secession. 

"Manassas,  5/^  Ji'^!/,  '61. 

"  My  Dear  Wife  :  —  I  have  not  written  to  you  as  early 
as  I  desired,  and  as  I  would  have  done  under  any  possible 
circumstances,  had  I  not  known  that  intelligence  of  our 
safety  had  reached  you  through  McK.  Campbell.  Until 
now  I  have  had  no  suitable  opportunity  to  write  to  you  ; 
but  finding  from  my  almost  unremitting  duties,  that  I  am 
not  likely  to  get  a  better,  seize  upon  such  as  I  have. 

"  Well,  my  dear  Mary,  after  every  effort  on  my  part  to 
check  the  current  of  secession,  I  have  just  come  out  of  a 
mostterrible  battle,  resulting  from  it  —  against  my  opinions, 
my  own  people,  and  ray  own  Government ;  but  confess  to 
all  the  pride  of  a  soldier,  in  the  great  victory  we  have  won, 
not  without  a  hope,  however,  that  it  may  lead  to  peace,  as 
both  the  Government  and  the  Northern  people  must  now 
see  that  we  are  not  to  be  insulted,  slandered,  and  wronged, 
without  properly  resenting:  it ;  but  when  the  battle  was 
going  on  I  lost  sight  of  all  such  considerations,  and  only 
thought  of  victory.  The  desire  of  success  superseded  all 
other  feelings.  I  never  once  thought  of  Colonel  Haywood; 
men  and  causes  dwindled  into  their  proper  insignificance, 
before  the  terrible  solemnity  of  battle-scenes. 

"I  am  now  fairly  launched  into  it,  and  though  I  still,  and 
shall  ever  condemn  the  policy  of  it,  I  shall  remain  in  it  so 
long  as  it  lasts,  and  continues  to  be  sectional  m  its  character 
and  purposes.     It  certainly  appears  to  be  a  war  of  envious 


BLOOM    AND     BRIER.  367 

fanaticism,  vrn^od  an^ainst  temper;  and  as  I  am  no  fanatic, 
and  as  the  temper  belnncfs  to  my  own  people,  I  shall  cer- 
tainlv^  maintain  it  in  their  interest,  and  every  impulse  of 
my  heart  forbids  my  doin^r  less  than  a  man's  work  —  I  will 
not  say  dvfi/.  I  miirht  possibly  think,  and  even  act  differ- 
ently, if  the  Government  of  the  United  States  could  divest 
itself  of  the  odium  of  moving  in  obedience  to  a  purely 
sectional  prejudice,  and  a  wish  on  the  part  of  the  North  to 
crvsh  us  ;  but  their  refusal  at  the  Peace  Conference,  thoufjh 
informally  held,  to  accede  to,  or  to  propose  any  concession, 
indicates  beyond  doubt,  that  the  Northern  people  desired 
the  South  to  secede  —  knowinp;  that  the  power  which  would 
thus  be  left  in  their  hands,  would  make  them  as  ten  to  one 
in  the  contest. 

"I  still,  as  I  have  said,  condemn  the  policy  of  the  war, 
and  look  upon  the  arofnments  in  behalf  of  Secession  as 
simply  absurd,  and  am  still  as  hopeless  of  ultimate  success. 
As  a  thing  of  reason,  I  have  no  approval  of  my  own,  or 
the  course  of  the  South  ;  yet,  from  a  social  point  of  view, 
I  could  never  forgive  myself  for  taking  part  against  my 
own  people. 

"But  to  revert  to  the  battle:  I  will  say  that  after  a  day 
of  terrible  fighting  against  large  odds  of  every  character, 
victory  went  overwhelming  by  in  our  favor.  Fright,  panic, 
rout,  flight,  and  an  utter  desertion  of  every  material  thing 
with  which  a  great  army  goes  on  the  battle-field,  does  not 
approach  the  picture  which  the  Federal  forces  presented, 
as  they  turned  toward  Washington. 

"  One  of  the,  to  me,  pleasing  but  singular  facts  in  this 
affiiir  is,  that  our  army  is  largely  composed  of  'Old  Whigs, ' 
and  men  who  opposed  secession,  yet  this  did  not  appear  to 
affect  them,  and  the  battle  was  fought  outside  of  all  polit- 
ical feeling.  It  was  acoUision  between  men  M'ho  essentially 
differ,  both  in  mental,  moral,  social,  and  ethnological  ele- 
ments. 

"  If  the  Confederate  Congress  could  only  appreciate  the 
differences  between  the  two  people,  which  this  battle  has 
developed,  and  then,  too,  remember  that  governments  only 
Avage  protracted  war  successfully,  somewhat  in  the  propor- 
tion which  they  approach  a  despotism,  and  hush  up  all  this 
senseless  wrangling  on  constitutional  points,  and  send  every 
capable  man  into  the  army,  and  ay,  go  themselves,  too,  there 


368  BLOOM    AND     BEIER. 

might  be  some  prospect  of  success ;  without  this,  I  fear 
there  is  but  little  —  and  I  am  not  a  croaJcer,  but  a  sokh'pr. 
The  one  man  power  is  the  only  kind  which  can  win  such 
prizes  as  are  now  up  on  the  hazard.  But  there  is  little  hope 
of  this.  The  future,  therefore,  is  gloomy  enough  to  those 
who  look  beyond  the  ephemeral  brightness  of  the  present. 

"  But  I  did  not  set  out  to  write  a  political  letter  to  my 
absent,  anxious,  and  loving  wife,  but  rather  to  write  to  her 
cheerfully  and  hopefully,  as  I  certainly  feel,  for  my  late 
escape  from  injury.  You  can  tell  those  who  feel  an  inter- 
est, or  have  young  friends  with  me,  that  the  regiment, 
through  the  whole  day,  behaved  with  the  most  unwavering 
gallantry,  as  much  so,  apparently,  as  if  each  man  thought 
the  issue  of  the  battle  depended  on  himself;  and  all  that  is 
to  be  regretted,  is  its  severe  losses. 

"  I  was  frequently  at  the  side  of  McKenzie  Campbell,  dur- 
ing the  day,  and  youth  as  he  is,  he  behaved  Avith  all  the 
coolness  and  daring  of  a  veteran,  and  all  the  gallantry  of 
a  Southern  gentleman's  son.  If  this  war  will  do  no  other 
good  it  will  develop  Southern  character,  and  the  chivalry 
of  the  Southern  heart,  and  let  the  outside  world  know  that 
we  are  more  than  the  bloated,  effete  "  slave  drivers  "  which 
Northern  pulpits,  Northern  politicians,  and  Northern  writ- 
ers, have  slanderously  represented  us  to  be. 

*'  McKenzie  went  over  to  the  quarters  of  General  Camp- 
bell, the  morning  following  the  battle,  and  a  soldier  who 
accompanied  him  told  me  that  he  never  saw  a  more  affect- 
ing meeting.  Campbell,  he  said,  cried  like  a  child,  as  he 
hugged  the  brave  boy  to  his  bosom.  He  may  well  be  proud 
of  him,  as  I  will  venture  that  neither  army  had  such  an- 
other in  its  ranks.  Tell  Alice  that  I  tease  him  about  writ- 
ing to  her  before  he  did  to  his  mother ;  he,  however,  denies 
it,  acknowledging,  though,  that  he  did  write  Alice  the 
longest  letter. 

"  Tell  her,  too,  that  she  may  boast  to  all  the  young  dam- 
sels of  her  young  hero  cousin,  and  that  he  makes  quite  as 
good  a  soldier  as  he  did  a  student,  and  that  is  saying  a 
great  deal.  As  I  just  remember  it,  you  must  excuse  me  for 
making  a  romantic  allusion  in  connection  with  him. 

"  About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  on  the  day  of  the 
fight,  I  passed  near  him,  only  a  short  time  before  his  captain 
had  been  wounded,  and  taken  from  the  field.   McKenzie  waa 


BLOOM    AND     BRIER.  369 

then  in  command  of  what  was  left  of  liis  company,  and  at 
the  moment  I  Baw  him,  was  under  a  very  severe  fire,  but 
he  stood  as  calmly,  and  looked  as  pleasing  as  if  enjoying 
some  pastime.  I  thought  I  had  never  seen  so  fine  a  pic- 
ture of  a  young  soldier,  and  could  but  pause  for  a  moment 
to  look  at  his  handsome  face  and  figure,  bringing  back  to 
memory  the  lovely  face  of  Laura  Brandon,  as  we  saw  her 
more  tlian  twenty  years  ago,  at  Gregory's  Spring,  and  for  a 
second,  the  poor  broken-hearted  girl  of  a  later  day  nestled 
again  in  my  bosom.  Strange  memory  to  pass  through  tlie 
mind  of  an  officer  on  the  battle-field,  you  will  think.  So 
it  was ;  but  constantly  through  that  day  of  blood  and 
havoc,  there  came  back  to  my  mind  sweet  memories  that 
had  long  lain  silent  or  been  forgot.  Strange,  too,  none  but 
the  pleasant  ones  came  up.  You  and  my  children  were 
ever  in  my  presence.  Every  pleasant  event,  from  the  time 
we  first  met,  up  to  the  reception  of  your  last  letter ;  and  in 
the  ten  thousand  times  that  your  dear  face  appeared  to  me, 
never  once  did  it  wear  anything  but  the  same  soft  beauty, 
and  the  same  gentle  expression,  which  I  never  saw  it  with- 
out ;  and  by  the  time  the  day  was  over  with,  and  now,  you 
were  more  the  lady-love  of  my  heart  than  ever  before.  I  can 
af?()rd  to  tell  you  this,  now  that  we  are  separated  ;  but  rather 
think  it  would  sound  very  boyish  if  with  you  —  distance 
and  danger  make  it  all  right. 

"The  night  after  the  battle  we  slept  upon  the  field  in 
great  disorder,  but  perhaps  more  quietly,  from  great  fatigue, 
and  from  a  feeling  of  security  from  interruption  by  the 
enemy.  They  were  having  rather  a  restless  time  of  it,  but 
their  wild  unrest  was  our  repose. 

"The  summer  moon  shed  its  clear  silver  light  upon  the 
tragic  field,  and  the  pale  stars  looked  sadly  down,  as  angels' 
eyes  from  heaven,  upon  the  dead,  the  dying,  the  sleeping 
soldiers,  and  mystic  scene  — and  never  had  I  a  happier  rest 
or  brighter  dreams.  My  spirit  floated  off  to  my  Southern 
home,  and  dwelt  in  the  blissful  realms  of  peace  and  love 
—  where  my  children,  with  their  mother,  were  as  palpably 
before  me  as  ever  in  actual  life. 

•'  You  'must  excuse  this  rambling  sort  of  letter,  my  dear 
wife,  as  the  circumstances  do  not  allow  of  me  writing  more 
connectedly;  but  I  shall  try  to  improve  upon  it,  in  a  few 
days.  Write  to  me  often,  as  your  letters  are  the  greatest  hap- 


370  BLOOM     AND    BRIER. 

piness  and  the  only  comfort  I  have  on  earth.  Give  my  love 
to  all  the  children,  and  tell  them  I  will  kiss  them  when  I 
come ;  and  you,  dear  absent  wife,  have,  as  always,  the  un- 
divided love  of  your  affectionate  husband, 

"  Henry  Brandon." 
"P.  S.  —  'Sam  Brandon'  sends  kind  love  to  his  family, 
and  his  respects  to  you  and  the  children.  He  is  the  same 
faithful  old  servant  that  he  ever  was.  I  could  scarcely 
keep  him  off  the  battle-field:  he  was  repeatedly  during  the 
day  on  his  horse  looking  out  for  me,  in  perfect  range  of 
the  enemy's  fire  ;  he  seems  fearless,  and  swears  harder  than 
ever.  He  has  a  fresh  subject  in  the  Yankees,  and  does  it 
full  justice.  Yours,  H.  B." 

In  reply  to  this  letter,  she  immediately  wrote  the  follow- 
ing, which  we  give,  as  indicative  of  the  feelings  of  Southern 
wives,  their  employments,  and  their  efforts  to  sustain  their 
home  affairs  : 

"Juhj  I2th,  '61. 

"A  letter  bearing  date  5th  July,  has  just  been  handed 
to  me,  from  My  Dear  Husband,  informing  me  over  his  own 
name  of  his  safety.  My  first  impulse  was  to  sit  down  and 
reply  to  it ;  but  for  some  time  I  was  so  overcome  by  my 
feelings  as  to  render  it  impossible  to  perform  that  ta^k  of 
love,  duty,  and  thankfulness.  I  have  at  length,  however, 
become  sufficiently  composed  to  do  so. 

"  Lhad  already  heard  of  the  battle,  and  your  escape,  my 
dear  husband,  through  the  letter  of  McK.  Campbell ;  but 
mj  anxiety  refused  to  be  quieted,  until  I  should  receive  the 
same  intelligence  in  your  own  writing.  That  I  now  have 
before  me  ;  and  on  this  beautiful  Sunday  morning",  with  the 
children  around  me,  I  feel  that  'Our  Father  in  heaven' 
had  reserved  this  happiness  for  me  to  this  blessed  morning, 
that  I  might  be  more  mindful  of  His  goodness  and  His 
mercy,  in  still  sparing  you  to  me. 

"  Oh  !  my  dear  husband,  as  right,  as  facts  have  developed 
within  the  last  few  months,  the  South  have  been  in  begin- 
ning this  war,  and  resisting  the  current  which  threatened 
her  happiness,  her  welfare,  and  her  particular  civilization, 
yet  I  confess,  in  my  sorrow,  and  my  bitterness  of  life, 
that  I  am  almost  unable  to  stand  up  under  the  various 
endurances  it  calls  for.     When  I  hear  that  a  battle  is  to 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  371 

be  fought,  in  which  it  is  probixble  you  ^vill  be  engao^ed  I 
really  have  no  control  over  my  mind ;  and  though  I  still 
strive  to  perforin  the  duties  which  now  devolve  upon  mo, 
I  yet  am  too  sick  at  heart,  to  go  through  with  them  as  I 
should,  and  am  onlv  driven  to  hold  up,  just  to  sustain  the 
children,  who,  at  times,  are  nearly  as  much  disposed  to 
yield  to  despondency  as  myself,  and  appear  to  live  in  a 
nameless  kind  of  anticipation  of  trouble. 

"  For  some  time  past,  our  home  has  looked  as  gloomy  as 
thouoh  some  dreadful  doom  impended  it.  Nothing  has 
appeared  to  escape  it ;  a  sort  of  listening,  lingering,  sighmg 
stillness  pervades  everything  around,  both  in  nature  and 
human  life  —  the  negroes  are  as  much  affected  as  ourselves. 
But  let  me  change  the  subject,  and  endeavor  at  least  to 
sav  something  of 'actual  home  matters.  ^ 

*"I  am  informed  by  the  negroes,  that  the  plantation  affnirs 
are  going  on  verv  smoothly,  and  the  prospect  for  a  good 
crop  was  never  better.  Whether  so  or  not,  they  deserve  it, 
as  I  have  never  known  them  to  behave  so  well  and  so  in- 
dustriously, and  take  the  greatest  pleasure  in  bringing  me 
pleasant  reports,  thinking,  I  suppose,  that  matters  of  the 
kind  will  cheer  me ;  but,  oh !  how  mistaken  the  poor  crea- 
tures are.  I,  however,  am  none  the  less  obliged  to  them, 
and  particularly  as  they  evince  so  much  feeling  for  you: 
for  the  last  hour,  since  the  word  got  out  that  I  had  heard 
from  you,  the  house  has  been  literally  thronged  with  them, 
expressing  their  joy  for  your  safety. 

"  I,  like  most  all  Southern  women,  favored  secession  ; 
but  now  confess  that  I  did  not  comprehend  its  real  character 
and  results.  I  onlv  looked  to  the  causes,  from  a  social  point, 
not  from  apolitical— from  which  I  very  naturally  viewed 
with  indignation  the  course  of  the  Northern  politicians,  in 
regard  to  our  private  atiairs  ;  but  with  a  still  deeper  indig- 
na'tion,  the  pharisaical  presumption  of  the  Northern  icomeu,, 
in  their  insulting  assumption  of  superior  virtue,  morality, 
excellence,  and  intelligence,  over  those  of  the  South,^and 
this  feeling  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  overcome.  That 
wretched  slander  upon  the  South,  'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin 
seems  to  have  fastened  it  upon  me  ;  and  I  will  forever  think 
that  the  social  condition  of  ray  sex  must  be  bad  indeed, 
when  even  its  literary  taste  can  only  be  gratified  by  a 
meretricious  slander,  perpetrated  by  one  of  their  number 


372  BLOOM    AND     BRIER. 

upon  their  own  sex,  in  another  part  of  the  same  country. 
Bat  even  with  these  just  causes  of  resentment,  I  should 
never  have  contributed  my  mite  to  the  present  condition  of 
affairs,  could  I  only  have  foreseen  the  results.  In  some 
atonement,  I  would  now  be  perfectly  willing  to  let  that 
wretched  people  have  matters  their  own  way  —  in  philan- 
thropy, morality,  and  literature,  if  by  it,  peace  could  be 
restored  to  our  wild,  distracted,  maddened  South,  or  even 
bring  my  husband  back  to  his  home,  his  children,  and  his 
wife. 

"  My  heart  aches  by  night  and  by  day,  as  I  think  that 
anything  I  may  have  said  and  done,  did  by  that  much  con- 
tribute to  our  present  separation.  Oh  !  my  husband,  it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  describe  the  bitter  anguish,  and  the 
heart-breaking  solicitude  that  I  bear  up  under  —  a  pressure 
is  upon  my  very  soul  —  and  all  the  refuge  I  have,  is  with 
a  bleeding,  stricken  heart,  to  bow  in  prayer  for  you,  for  my 
children,  and  for  peace.  But  I  have  promised  to  write 
more  cheerfully  if  I  could,  and  I  will. 

"  The  weather  has  been  very  hot  for  several  weeks,  but 
yesterday  there  was  a  fine  refreshing  rain,  and  to-day  the  air 
is  cool,  and  nature  appears  all  fresh  and  young  again,  and 
how  happy  I  could  be  if  you  were  only  with  us  I  Every 
breeze  seems  softly  to  breathe  me  the  name  that  is  dearest 
to  me  on  earth  ;  but,  alas !  he  that  bears  it,  is  far,  too  far 
away. 

"  I  know  that  you  will  do  your  duty  nobly,  as  a  gentle- 
man and  a  soldier,  yet  I  can  derive  no  pleasure  from  that 
thought.  Your  honor  is  your  danger,  and  that  I  cannot 
contemplate  with  the  least  resignation  whatever,  however 
mortifying  it  would  be  to  me,  for  you  not  to  meet  it  prop- 
erly. 

"  Surrounded  as  I  am,  by  these  gloomy  shadows  and 
fearful  solicitudes,  you  may  judge  that  I  have  but  few 
moments  unclouded  by  sorrow.  In  this  perplexity  and 
anguish  of  spirit,  after  caressing  our  dear,  innocent,  grief- 
stricken  children,  I  turn  back  upon  the  past,  as  my  next 
source  of  happiness ;  when  our  first  meeting  at  Gregorie's 
Spring  comes  vividly  back  to  my  memory,  with  all  the 
merry,  joyous  scenes  of  that  day,  and  linger  upon  that 
sort  of  prescience  which  I  even  then  had,  that  you  would 
some  time  or  other  hold  a  different  relation  to  me,  from  what 


BLOOM     AND     IJllIER.  373 

you  then  did.  I  next  think  of  the  many  intervening  years 
in  which  we  never  met;  and  still,  how  in  all  that  time 
your  name  would  so  often  come  up  before  rae,  without  any 
apparent  association  —  how  perfectly  I  remembered  your 
face,  and  how  instantly  I  knew  you  when  we  accidentally 
met  in  the  streets  of  Memphis.  And,  oh !  then,  the  many 
happy,  too  happy  years  we  since  have  spent  in  our  planta- 
tion-home. 

"  Until  the  clouds  of  this  wretched  war  darkened  the  sky 
of  our  home-joys,  everything,  and  everybody,  was  happy 
and  contented  —  ourselves,  our  children,  our  friends,  our 
negroes,  and  the  stranger  that  entered  our  gates  ;  yes,  these, 
all  of  these,  had  a  joy  and  a  gladness  to  beam  in  their  eye. 
Oh !  that  Heaven,  in  some  kind  manner,  would  spare  me 
the  sight  of  the  contrary  in  the  coming  time. 

"iVould  now  ask  you,  ray  dear  husband,  to  take  care 
of  yourself,  but  that  I  know  you  cannot  do.  I  still  can 
pray  though,  that  some  good  angel  may  set  a  light  in  the 
skies,  which  shall  guide  you  through  all  the  terrible  dangers 
of  battle,  and  some  day  lead  you  back  to  the  bosom  of 
your  sorrowing  family. 

"  Alice  Hunter  was  over  to  see  me  yesterday,  and  though 
her  father  is  so  opposed  to  thewar, -s/^e  is  quite  enthusiastic 
and  jubilant,  and  very  proud  of  the  reputation  which  her 
young  sweetheart  cousin,  as  she  calls  him,  has  appeared  to 
win ;  and  almost  admits  there  is  some  little  promise  between 
them  —  looking  at,  and  speaking  of  the  future  most  glow- 
ingly. Poor  girl!  I  almost  fear  there  is  some  bitter  drop  in 
the  bottom  of  the  cup  which  she  little  dreams  of,  and  from 
which  she  is  drinking  the  ambrosial  draught,  only  known 
to  youth  and  to  innocence. 

"  The  relations  and  friends,  such  as  are  at  home,  are  all 
well  and  very  kind  to  us  ;  and  nearly  all  of  them  very  hope- 
ful now  of  our  *  independence,'  very  resolute  in  their  cause, 
and  appear  astonished  that  I  too  am  not  so. 

"  I  do  not  suppose  there  will  be  any  military  movement 
on  foot  very  soon.  I  shall,  therefore,  look  for  you  every 
day  until  I  see  you.  The  children  send  so  many  messages, 
that  my  letter,  long  as  it  is,  would  not  have  contained  them  ; 
but  they  are  all  full  of  love :  they  have  done  nothing  but 
talk  of  you  for  the  last  month,  and  seem  ever  to  be  won- 
dering '  Where  is  father  now  ? ' 
32 


374  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

"  Tell  '  Sam  Brandon,'  his  wife  and  children  are  all  well, 
and  send  him  all  kinds  of  messages  and  love,  as  do  all  the 
negroes,  and  our  own  children. 

"  Our  hearts  all  yearn  to  see  you  again,  which  we  now 
hope  will  be  before  a  great  while ;  until  then,  my  dear 
husband,  you  have  the  prayers  and  love  of  your  devoted 
wife,  Mary  Brandon-." 


CHAPTER   X. 

"Thoughts  are  but  dreams  till  their  effects  be  tried." 

THE  letter  of  Mrs.  Brandon  was  but  a  simple  expression 
of  the  feelings  which  too  many  heart  -  stricken  wives 
suffered  from,  at  some  period  of  the  war,  and  many  through 
it  all.  It  was  not,  however,  representative  of  the  general 
sentiment  of  the  sex,  which  was  even  more  inflamed,  and 
more  proscriptive  than  that  of  the  men.  We  will  not  give 
the  philosophy  of  this  fact,  but  leave  it  in  the  condition  of 
a  mere  assertion  which  cannot  be  denied. 

On  the  part  of  those  who  had  advocated  Secession,  we 
mean  on  the  part  of  the  opposite  sex,  there  was  an  almost 
undivided  belief  that  war  would  not,  nay,  could  not  follow. 
It  was  really  believed  by  that  particular  school  of  poli- 
ticians, who  had  been  educated  in,  advocated,  and  had  at 
length  inaugurated  the  doctrine,  that  the  States  had  a  con- 
stitutional rio-ht  to  withdraw  from  the  Union  when  it  miirht 
be  thought  judicious  to  do  so,  without  responsibility  to  any 
superior  power  whatever ;  and  as  a  correlative  part  of  the 
doctrine,  that  those  which  remained  as  the  original  gov- 
ernment dared  not  overleap  these  constitutional  rights 
of  the  seceders.  The  singular  and  anomalous  position 
vras  here  presented,  of  one  part  wilfully  throwing  ofi'  the 
obligations  of  the  Constitution,  yet  expecting  the  other  to 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  375 

be  controlled  by  them.  This  singular  obliquity  was  the 
sure  guarantee  of  -war,  when  least  expected,  and  the  least 
prepared  for.  Had  it  not  been  for  this  theoretical  position, 
there  would,  indeed,  have  been  no  war.  Whereas,  the 
practical  application  of  the  doctrine  did  unknowingly  drift 
the  South  into  its  terrible  current,  and  her  own  destruction. 

It  must,  however,  be  admitted  that  the  character  of  the 
debates  on  the  Constitution  very  significantly  pointed  to 
this  right  on  the  part  of  the  States,  and  much  of  the  lan- 
guage used  in  expressing  its  meaning  is  susceptible  of  con- 
struction favorable  to  the  idea  of  extreme  State  sovereignty ; 
and  though  it  had  never  been  tested,  it  yet  had  never  been 
lost  sight  of.  It  perhaps  would  never  have  been  tested,  if 
the  Northern  people  had  not  perpetrated  so  many  indig- 
nities upon  the  South  —  which  gave  out  high  and  false 
social  aspects  of  Southern  life  and  character  —  and  finally 
begun  a  systematic  attack  upon  their  personal  rights,  in  the 
matter  of  their  slave  property.  These  latter  fiicts  at  length 
determined  the  South  to  put  the  right  of  separation  to  a 
practical  test.  Southern  extremists  thus  secured  all  the 
advantages  they  had  long  desired  over  the  conservative  ele- 
ments ;  and  we  know  the  results. 

This  point  in  the  science  of  government  is  so  plain  and 
so  palpable,  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  well-informed 
men  could  have  so  far  lost  sight  of  it ;  and  can  only  be  ex- 
cused on  the  score  of  temper,  which,  itself,  had  foundation  in 
deep-seated  ethnological  causes,  which  had  sho^Yn  themselves 
before  on  various  occasions,  though  not  so  fully  illustrated. 
The  war  of  1812,  the  United  States  bank,  the  tariff*,  slavery, 
and  other  questions,  had,  in  the  previous  history  of  the  Gov- 
ernment, developed  organic  antagonisms  between  the  people 
of  the  South  and  North ;  and  the  country  had  never  been 
wanting  in  ambitious  men  on  either  side,  who  had  inflamed 
them  to  the  utmost ;  but  it  was  reserved  to  the  fatal  year 
of  1860,  to  bring  culmination  and  collision.     The  election 


376  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

of  Lincoln  was  nothing  of  itself,  (even  as  he  was  nothing 
of  himself,)  as  the  rights  of  the  South  were  safe,  so  long  as 
she  remained  in  the  Union ;  but  it  was  the  evidence  of 
things  unseen,  and  a  sign  of  the  bitter  extreme  to  which 
prejudice  on  the  one  pai't,  and  temper  on  the  other,  had 
been  wrought  up.  Slavery  was  but  the  ostensible  cause  of 
the  collision  —  the  quasi  cause  of  war.  The  "  irrepressible 
conflict "  was  not  really  between  slave  and  free  labor,  but 
between  the  Norman  of  the  South,  and  the  Saxon  of  the 
North,  nor  can  the  difference  ever  be  reconciled,  except  under 
a  MONARCHICAL  government. 

The  Northern  people,  however,  made  the  mistake  of  sup- 
posing that  slavery  was  the  cause  of  the  war,  and  almost 
to  the  very  last  period  of  it,  the  South  was  informed  that 
she  could  retain  her  slaves,  provided  she  would  return  to 
her  allegiance ;  but  the  scorn  with  which  the  proposition 
was  rejected,  at  once  gave  evidence  that  the  sources  of  the 
war  were  far  deeper  than  that  called  for;  and  this  the 
Government  of  the  United  States  might  have  seen,  yet  it 
went  on  to  the  perpetration  of  a  most  malignant  folly,  and 
the  unmilitary  expedient  of  setting  them  free  —  a  lasting 
shame  upon  its  sense  of  justice,  upon  its  chivalry,  and  its 
statesmanship.  Whether  slavery  was  right  or  not,  aristo- 
cratic or  not,  valuable  or  not,  it  was  still  the  2jroperty  of 
the  South,  acquired  under  constitution a.l  guarantees ;  and 
while  it  was  not  actively  engaged  in  the  war,  its  wilful 
destruction  was  only  a  private  injury  and  a  national  wrong, 
in  which  the  innocent  suffered  equally  with  the  guilty. 
Their  dwelling-houses  had  as  well  been  burned,  because 
they  sheltered  them.  If  it  had  been  the  cause  of  the 
war,  and  it  certainly  was  such  ostensibly,  the  very  appre- 
hension of  its  destruction  was  a  perfect  justification  of  the 
South  in  defending  herself  against  the  trespass.  If  it  was 
not  the  cause  of  the  war,  the  act  was  indefensible,  and  the 
South  should  now  be  paid  for  her  property,  equally  with 


BLOOM    AND     IJ  K  1  E  R  .  377 

the  bondholders  of  the  North.  If  it  teas  the  cause  of  the 
war,  the  South  was  right  for  defending  herself,  and  should 
still  be  paid  for  it^  destruction.  The  hiw  of  rebellion  ap- 
plies to  persons,  not  to  property.  Even  in  its  simplest  form, 
any  other  position,  let  the  custom  of  governments  have 
been  what  it  may,  cannot  be  sustained  either  in  spirit  or 
in  practice. 

The  Government  professed  to  be  defending  itself  — 
granted ;  but  governments  also  are  instituted  for  the  pro- 
tection of  individuals  in  all  their  rights,  and  not  for  the 
destruction  of  those  rights.  The  reasons  in  favor  of  these 
positions  are  too  manifest,  and  the  results  of  a  contrary 
course  too  plainly  unjust,  to  require  much  argument  in  their 
defence,  and  nothing  but  the  raobocratic  and  fanatical 
spirit  of  the  Government  will  continue  them  to  be  rejected. 

The  war  had  now  been  going  on  for  over  two  years,  and 
Southern  arms  had  been  victorious  on  every  important 
battle-field,  since  it  had  begun.  The  seven-days  fighting 
around  Richmond  had  already  taken  place,  and  had  left 
the  rebel  capital  without  the  apprehension  of  any  early 
danger,  and  all  aglow  with  the  expectation  of  recognition 
on  the  part  of  the  United  States.  The  fighting  had  been 
terrible  indeed,  in  which  prodigies  of  valor  had  been  shown 
on  either  side,  and  was  a  fair  test  of  the  military  character 
of  the  two  people.  It  was  not  the  inferiority  of  the  one 
which  had  lost  the  campaign,  but  the  superiority  of  the 
other  that  had  won  it.  And  yet,  the  Northern  army  was 
overthrown  with  every,  feature  of  ignominious  defeat,  and 
Southern  independence  most  surely  calculated  on.  But  it 
did  not  come ! 

Mr.  Ray  had  been  elected  as  one  of  the  Senators  from 
Alabama,  and  had  taken  permanent  rooms  in  Richmond, 
Miss  Sedley  still  remaining  with  them.  Colonel  Staflford 
had  been  a  regular  visitor  there,  with  the  understanding  of 
being  married  at  the  ending  of  the  war. 
32* 


378  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Colonel  Stafford  had  been  in  the  army  since  the  begin- 
ning of  the  hostilities,  and  had  participated  in  several 
of  its  severest  engagements  without  injury,  until  the 
charge  on  Malvern  Hill,  during  the  fight  around  Rich- 
mond. In  that  desperate  affair,  however,  he  had  received 
a  most  terrible  wound  in  the  shoulder,  and  was  taken  from 
the  battle-field  directly  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Ray.  After 
a  Ions  confinement,  and  the  best  attention,  he  had  suffi- 
ciently  recovered  to  return  to  his  own  home,  in  North  Ala- 
bama. 

Many  weeks  expiring  after  this  celebrated  campaign, 
without  any  appearances  of  "  recognition  "  on  the  part  of 
the  United  States,  the  Confederate  Government  at  length, 
with  some  confidence  of  success,  determined  on  an  invasion 
of  the  enemy's  country,  not  with  any  other  view  than  hast- 
ening an  acknowledgment  of  its  independence.  So  soon  as 
that  policy  was  determined  on,  the  War  Department  began 
making  all  necessary  preparations  for  carrying  it  out. 

Colonel  Stafford  learning  that  this  enterprise  was  in  con- 
templation, and  having  measurably  regained  his  strength, 
determined  on  returning  to  his  regiment.  In  writing  to 
Miss  Sedley,  he  spoke  of  the  current  intelligence  in  North 
Alabama  to  that  effect,  and  merely  mentioned  that  he 
thought  his  strenfTth  suflScient  to  return  to  the  armv,  and 
that  she  might  expect  the  pleasure  of  his  presence  in  a 
couple  of  weeks  at  furthest.  Immediately  replying  to  him, 
she  urged  him  to  remain,  as  she  was  satisfied  from  his  con- 
dition when  he  left,  and  from  the  length  of  time  he  had 
been  gone,  that  his  strength  was  not  sufficient  to  bear  him 
up  under  the  excitement  and  fatigue  of  such  a  campaign. 

We  subjoin  the  letter,  as  somewhat  illustrative  of  the 
feeling  of  that  period : 

"  Richmond,  2oth  Augnxf,  1862. 

"Dear  Colonel  Stafford:  —  Your  last  letter,  inform- 
ing me  of  your  intended  early  return  to  the  array,  was 


BI.OOM     AND    BRIER.  379 

handed  to  me  not  over  half  an  hour  since,  and  I  seize  this 
immediate  moment  to  reply  to  you,  in  order  that  no  mail 
may  escape  me,  urging  you  to  remain  in  Alabama.     On 
reading  your  letter,  I  comnmnicated  your  purpose  to  uncle 
Ray,  who  happened  to  be  in  his  room  at  the  time,  and  to 
aunt,  both  of  whom  unite  with  me  in  urging  you  to  remain 
away,  as  we  are  all  satisfied  that  your  physical  condition 
cannot  be  such  as  to  justify  your  joining  your  regiment  so 
early.    So,  sir,  with  this  accumulated  authority,  my  request 
rises  well  up  to  the  dignity  of  a  command  from  your  supe- 
riors, and  vou  are  too  well-trained  a  soldier  to  disobey  it. 
Rather  than  vou  should  suffer  with  your  men,  which  I 
know  is  part  of  your  feeling,  I  will,  myself,  go  to  them,  and 
represent  vour  condition,  and  if  the  which  shall  not  satisfy 
them,  I  w'ill  propose  to  play  Joan  d'Arc,  and  lead  them 
into  the  next  battle  in  your  stead.     But  in  addition  to  the 
arguments  I  have  already  used  —  and  in  all  seriousness, 
too  —  I  hioiv  of  quite  a  number  of  men  both  about  Hunts- 
ville  and  Richmond,  strong  and  healthy  in  person,  who  were 
very  strenuous  advocates  of  Secession,  and  still  profess  to  a 
very  high  order  of  patriotism,  who  yet  have  never  raised 
an  arm  in  this  war.    Let  some  of  such  noble-souled  gentle- 
men take  your  place  for  the  next  campaign ;  give  them  a 
chance  to  woo,  if  they  cannot  win,  the  favors  of  Mars ;  let 
them  ventilate  their  quiet  souls  with  the  fumes  of  sulphur 
and  saltpetre.     I  know  they  are  willing,  and  only  want  an 
opportunity  to  prove  it.     Yes,  I  am  serious  in  this  very 
proposition,  but  I  am  even  more  serious  when  I  say  that 
such  men  deserve  the  lasting  scorn  of  every  ifo??m«,  even  in 
the  South.     They  are  even  worse  than  cowards,  no  matter 
what  their  plea  for  remaining  out  of  the  army  ;  who,  Avhile 
they  watch  for,  and  nose  out  every   'bomb-proof   position 
for 'their  own  mean  persons,  yet  use  all  their  efforts  to  drive 
others  into  it,  and  whether  we  succeed  or  fail,  I  hope  they 
will  be  held  in  everlasting  scorn.    So  much  for  these  Buck- 
in  ghams. 

"  j\[r.  Davis  and  his  friends  so  highly  estimate  the  effects 
of  the  late  Confederate  victories,  that  they  look  with  much 
confidence  for  peace  and  rscognition,  and  as  a  sort  of  addi- 
tional persuasive,  have  indeed  resolved  upon  a  move  into 
the  enemy's  country.  The  army,  therefore,  will  soon  be 
under  marching  orders.     I  very  sincerely  hope  his  expec- 


380  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

tations  will  have  some  better  foundation  than  those  he  has 
heretofore  expressed ;  having,  allow  me  to  say  it,  every 
private  consideration  for  thus  hoping,  in  addition  to  public 
considerations.  Such  as  are  personal,  I  will  give  you,  pro- 
vided you  promise  not  to  think  me  transcending  the  nar- 
rowest limits  of  female  delicacy. 

"First,  then,  all  my  brightest  and  best  hopes  in  life,  so 
far  from  connecting  themselves  with  the  scenes  of  which  I 
now  compose  an  unwilling  part,  concentrate  upon  a  future 
that  locates  itself  far  away  in  "Dixie,"  surrounded  by  the 
quiet  pleasures  of  a  retired  home  of  my  own,  with  a  certain 
rebel  officer  I  know  of,  for  its  master.  This,  sir  knight,  is 
the  salient  sketch  and  pleasing  outline  of  the  plan  with 
which  I  very  often,  of  late,  refresh  and  soothe  my  anxious 
heart.  Does  it  please  you  ?  If  so,  your  remaining  where 
you  are,  is  the  prominent  figure  in  the  picture. 

"  Since  the  defeat  of  the  Federals,  Richmond  has  ex- 
ceeded itself  in  gayety,  reckless  dissipation,  and  as  1  learn, 
corruption  of  every  kind.  All  of  which,  I  presume, 
naturally  proceeds  from  that  peculiar  society  which  invari- 
ably gathers  about  a  revolutionary  metropolis.  But  some- 
how, 1  cannot  but  argue  badly  for  the  social  condition  of 
the  South,  in  event  of  success,  on  account  of  it,  as  it  is  very 
far  from  representing  that  devoted  and  elevated  patriotism 
with  which  we  first  set  out,  without  which  I  have  always 
feared  we  could  not  succeed,  or  even  ought  to  succeed.  An 
improper  appreciation  and  use  of  success,  would  be  worse 
for  us  than  defeat.  Those  who  have  done  the  very  least  in 
this  war,  by  which  I  mean  those  who  have  lived  in  the 
most  perfect  ease,  luxury  even,  and  cowardly  safety,  are 
now  the  loudest  in  the  use  of  the  pronoun  we,  and  appro- 
priate the  chief  honor  of  our  success  up  to  this  time.  I  am 
still  as  devoted  to  the  Confederate  cause  as  ever ;  but  con- 
fess myself  very  often  feeling  great  disgust  for  its  assumed 
leaderships,  and  almost  feel  willing  to  see  it  fail  just  to 
crush  out  these  miserable  people;  and  sigh  for  escape  and 
for  a  refuge  from  them  in  the  society  of  one  whose  fate 
seems  wrapt  up  with  my  own,  and  whose  place  in  my  heart 
none  other  ever  has  or  can  fill.   But  I  grow  lack-a-daisical. 

"  Uncle,  in  common  with  others,  thinks  we  shall  soon 
have  propositions  of  peace,  and  I  think  rather  prides  him- 
self upon  the  idea  of  being  senator  for  the  long  term,  from 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  381 

the  great  cotton  State  of  Alabama.  Aiint,  too,  looks  for- 
ward Willi  much  apparent  pleasure  to  the  future,  which, 
indeed,  seems  quite  flattering  to  her  now.  I  can  see  but 
little,  however,  to  compensate  her  for  the  perfect  absence 
of  domesticity,  which  1  know  she  dearly  loves,  and  adorns 
in  so  lovely  a  manner  ;  but  she  is  acting  a  part  for  the  sake 
of  her  husband,  and  certainly  performs  it  very  handsomely. 
To  please  me,  though,  it  is  all  too  hollow,  too  unreal ;  and 
if  she  should,  from  any  cause,  fail  in  her  ambitious  purposes, 
there  will  be  nothing  to  fall  back  upon. 

"  Maugre  all  this,  you  must  tell  the  people  at  home,  that 
the  people  here  are  very  exultant  over  our  condition  and 
successes,  and  jubilant  ov^er  the  prospect  of  an  early  peace ; 
and  not  to  relax  in  their  eflbrts  to  assist  the  Government, 
as  failure  now  would  be  a  reflection  upon  their  courage 
forevei^,  beside  bringing  upon  themselves  such  a  despotism, 
as  no  Christian  people  have  ever  endured  —  that  the  North 
is  mortified  beyond  measure,  and  will  visit  their  shame 
upon  us  to  the  fullest  extent,  if  it  should  ever  be  in  their 
power  to  do  so.  Yes,  keep  their  hopes  and  courage  up  now. 
NVe  have  nothing  to  hope  for  outside  of  success. 

"Indeed,  the  North  has  just  found  out  that  it  will  not 
only  require  all  their  own  military  strength  proper,  but  all 
they  can  hire  from  abroad,  to  overcome  the  jioor,  unarmed, 
hungry,  naked  South ;  and  in  addition  to  calling  for 
100,000  more  men,  are  swelling  their  plethoric  ranks  with 
such  of  our  deluded  negroes  as  they  capture  or  can  induce 
to  go  to  them. 

"  Yes,  they  feel  with  a  burning  shame  that  had  the  South 
possessed  one-half  their  resources,  in  either  men  or  muni- 
tions of  war,  her  banners  would  now  be  floating  from  every 
hill-top  in  their  frozen,  barren  land. 

"  Deeply  as  I  deplore  this  desolating  war,  I  yet  feel  will- 
ing to  see  every  man  a  cripple,  and  every  woman  and  child 
working  in  the  field  to  support  them,  in  preference  to  sub- 
mitting to  a  people  who  appear  so  lost  to  every  generous 
emotion  toward  us. 

"  This  may  sound  unfeminine,  but  better  be  that  than 
degraded,  as  we  all  shall  be  if  the  Confederacy  should  prove 
a  failure.  I  am  now  satisfied  that  the  Northern  people 
have  traditional,  as  well  as  personal  causes  of  hate  toward 
us,  and  personal  shame  to  avenge;  and  judge  so  from  their 


382  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

insults  to  the  people,  and  their  actual  thieving  and  robbing 
wlierever  they  have  gained  possession  in  the  ISouth. 

"  I  wish  you  to  tell  them  for  me,  if  that  will  do  any  good, 
that  right  or  wrong  this  is  no  time  to  inquire  —  our  best 
and  only  hope  is  to  conquer,  or  to  die  —  to  go  to  the  bitter 
end,  let  it  be  as  bitter  as  it  may.  But  between  ourselves, 
I  fear  there  are  too  many  already  lost  to  all  such  emotion ; 
and  the  accusation,  too,  lies  mainly  at  the  door  of  those  who 
precipitated  us  into  war.  Richmond  is  full,  and  I  hear  it 
is  the  same  in  other  places,  of  able-bodied  men,  young  and 
old,  holding  some  execrable  '  bomb-proof,'  the  which,  to- 
gether with  the  terrible  speculation  in  the  currency,  and  in 
the  hard-extreme-necessities  of  the  country,  will  greatly  en- 
danger our  prospects,  if  peace  does  not  soon  follow  our  late 
successes.  I  fear  the  fighting  element  of  the  country  has 
been  fully  brought  out  and  very  much  exhausted.  Con- 
scripts, and  safety-seekers,  never  will  carry  this  revolution 
on  to  success,  and  our  same  army  cannot  long  sustain  such 
drafts,  as  these  terrible  battles  make  upon  it. 

"I  have  now  written  you  a  long  political  letter,  which  I 
did  not  intend,  but  not  without  its  social  features,  I  hope ; 
but  as  subjects  of  this  kind  are  all  that  I  ever  hear  dis- 
cussed, my  mind  naturally  runs  upon  them,  and  you  will 
have  to  pardon  me.  When  we  meet  we  will  talk  of  some- 
thing else  —  shan't  we?  Until  then,  be  it  long  or  short, 
you  may  rest  assured  that  I  remain  aflectionately  your  own 

"Margaret  Sedley.'* 

"P.  S.  —  I  enjoin  you  to  remain  in  Alabama,  until  you 
hear  from  me  ao^ain.  M.  S." 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  383 


CHAPTER    XL 

*'And  homeless  near  a  thousand  homes  I  stood, 
And  near  a  thousand  tables  pined  and  wanted  food." 

THIS  letter  reached  Alabama  just  as  Colonel  Stafford 
was  slowly  recovering  from  a  relapse  which  precluded 
all  idea  of  his  immediate  return  to  the  army;  he  was,  there- 
fore, compelled  to  remain  in  Alabama,  much  against  his 
inclination,  and  replied  to  Miss  Sedley,  as  follows: 

"Rose  Hill,  Ala.,  Septewber  bth,  1S62. 

"INIy  Dear  Margaret  :  —  The  fates  were  in  your  favor, 
and  I  obey  your  commands  on  compulsion.  A  slight  re- 
lapse, just  before  receiving  your  letter,  has  rendered  it 
impossible  for  me  to  carry  out  the  design  of  returning  to 
my  regiment,  and  think  I  now  have  a  very  clear  idea  of 
the  trouble  which  rose  up  before  the  great  soul  of  Falataff, 
when  he  protested  to  Prince  Hal  against  the  idea  of  '  com- 
pulsion ; '  whether  I  have  or  not,  1  know  that  I  am  still 
in  Alabama,  very  much  against  my  inclination,  in  a  sort 
of  quasi  obedience  to  your  commands  —  on  compulsion  — 
on  my  own  once  very  completely  regulated,  abundant,  and 
beautiful  plantation,  but  now,  devastated,  ruined,  and 
almost  deserted.  The  appearance  of  everything  about  my 
once  pleasant  home  makes  the  desire  to  return  to  the  army 
almost  uncontrollable,  whether  sick  or  well,  and  there  to 
remain  until  1  am  either  dead,  or  the  miserable  creatures, 
calling  themselves  soldiers,  who  have  desecrated  my  coun- 
try and  my  home,  shall  be  driven  back  to  their  o\Nn  or  fill 
felons'  graves.  You  can  possibly  form  no  idea  of  the  ruin 
which  tlie  wretches  committed  on  this  defenceless  country 
for  the  short  tim.e  they  held  it.  The  entire  valley  of  the 
'  Tennessee  '  reminds  me  of  descriptions  given  of  the  des- 
erts, the  plains,  and  the  ruins  along  the  Jordan,  more  than  of 
that  lovely  country,  once  so  noted  for  its  rehricd  society,  its 
beautiful  hijmes,  and  its  luxuriant  fields.  The  very  ring 
and  sung  of  desolation  trembles  over  the  extended  land- 
scape that  lies  along  either  side  of  this  noble  river.  For 
miles,  scarce  a  living  tiling  is  to  be  seen,  more  than  now 


384  BLOOM    AND    BEIER. 

and  then  an  old  decrepit  negro,  or  lame  horse,  ^-ho  ^vas 
unable  to  leave  on  the  exodus  of  this  gallant  house-robbing, 
horse-thieving,  old-men-hanging,  house-burning  army  of 
old  Lincoln's !  In  too  many,  ah,  too  many  places,  nothing 
stands  to  mark  the  homes  of  your  friends,  but  thin,  tall,  and 
lonely-looking  chimney  stems,  which  I  hope  may  long  be 
permitted  to  stand  as  monuments  to  the  chivalry  of  the 
Christian  Puritan,  that  other  days  may  have  some  palpable 
record  of  his  assumed  enlightenment  and  pious  philan- 
thropy. 

"  From  the  persons  left  behind,  some  of  both  colors,  I 
learn  the  utter  destitution  to  ^vhich  nearly  all  of  our  friends 
have  been  wantonly  reduced,  most  of  whom  managed  to 
make  their  way  to  such  parts  of  the  State  still  held  by 
the  Confederates;  and  now  that  our  army  is  again  in  occu- 
pancy of  the  country,  many  of  our  best  old  citizens  have 
nothing  to  return  to,  or  to  return  with. 

"  I  believe  the  feeling  occasioned  by  such  sights,  and  by 
such  information,  was  the  cause  of  my  relapse,  and  I  now 
grow  so  nervous  writing  of  them,  that  I  can  scarce  hold  my 
pen  to  write  legibly.  If  the  thousands  upon  thousands  of 
able-bodied  men,  both  young  and  old,  who  still  hang  about 
their  homes  on  one  pretence  or  another,  and,  as  you  say, 
holding  '  bomb-proofs,'  would  only  come  to  the  valley  of 
the  Tennessee,  they  would,  if  they  had  the  hearts  of  men  in 
their  bosoms,  throw  aside  such  despicable  employments, 
and  rush  to  the  army. 

"  I  am  informed  that  the  Federals  who  held  possession 
here,  were  a  most  godless  crew,  drawn  from  their  own  large 
cities,  and  from  Europe,  with  a  large  sprinkling  of  our  own 
base-blooded  people,  and  negroes,  and  the  depredations  and 
horrible  deeds  they  committed  were  just  such  as  this  com- 
mingled hell-broth  of  a  gathering  called  for.  My  ovrn 
dwelling  has  been  burned  —  many  of  the  out-houses,  most 
of  my  fences ;  and  nearly  all  of  the  provisions  were  taken, 
such  only  being  left  as  were  secured  by  the  more  faithful 
negroes ;  and  most  of  the  negroes  themselves  left  with  the 
army  on  its  retreat. 

"  Such,  my  dear  Margaret,  is  the  basis  of  the  Arcadian 
picture,  which  you  hinted  at  in  your  letter.  I  have  tried 
to  grow  sentimental  over  it,  but  my  temper  gets  the  better 
of  me,  and  in  place  of  any  beautiful  lines  of  poetry  coming 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  385 

to  my  aid,  the  old  nursery  dofrgercl  of  *  Humplirey  ^vith 
lii.s  flail  and  Dorothy  Drago:letair  ever  haunts  my  mem- 
ory.    How  do  you  like  the  picture  and  the  prospect? 

"  I  cannot,  in  my  present  state  of  health,  return  to  the 
army,  but  no  persuasion,  no  consideration  can  keep  me 
longer  than  the  first  hour  that  I  am  able  to  travel.  I  love 
life,  perhaps,  as  well  as  any  young  man,  but  I  school  my- 
self into  loving  honor,  justice,  and  the  land  of  my  birth  even 
more,  and  I  hope  I  am  willing  to  give  every  drop  of  blood 
in  my  body  to  defend  them.  What  has  been  shed  in  that 
way,  is  welcome  to  have  spilt,  and  I  only  regret  that  I  have 
not  a  thousand  times  as  much  to  shed  in  the  same  cause. 
If  my  arm  were  only  stronger,  the  desolation  of  my  home 
should  soon  be  avenged  on  some  one ;  but  I  will  bide  my 
time  —  me  or  mine  will  yet  have  revenge. 

"  I  was  a  secessionist  before  the  war.  First,  because  I 
disliked  living  with  the  Yankee  people  :  they  are  a  people 
who  have  but  little  elevated  self-respect,  and,  therefore,  but 
little  respect  for  others.  Again,  I  was  one  from  education  ; 
yet,  on  what  would  have  been  a  proper  assurance  of  good 
faith  at  the  '  Peace  Conference,'  I  should  have  been  willing 
to  return  to  the  Union,  offensive  as  the  thing  was  to  me. 
But  now,  after  the  ravages,  robberies,  desecrations,  and 
meannesses  which  they  have  been  guilty  of  since  the  war 
began,  I  would  rather  perish  by  the  rope,  starvation,  or 
disease,  every  hour  in  the  day,  than  go  back  with  them ;  and 
if  left  to  ME,  I  would  raise  the  black  jiay  in  twenty-four 
hours,  if  I  were  sure  of  falling  the  first  victim,  before  I 
would  live  an  hour  in  allegiance  to  a  flag  which  has  only 
proven  itself  the  badge  of  my  dishonor  and  ruin. 

"  What  I  say  is  in  no  spirit  of  boasting,  but  with  the 
feeling  of  a  man  whose  home  has  been  outraged  by  a  ruth- 
less band  of  cowards,  under  the  pretence  of  carrying  on 
war.  After  what  I  have  seen,  I  am  prepared  for  the  worst, 
and  don't  fear  it.  There  is  nothing  they  will  not  do,  if 
they  can  do  it ;  and  I  only  wish  I  had  a  thousand  lives  to 
give  my  country  against  such  hypocritical  miscreants — the 
last  would  go  as  freely  as  the  first. 

"  I  shall  leave  here  at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  in 

sheer  justice  to  myself,  as  hate  is  becoming  the  absorbing 

feeling  of  my  heart,  and  while  the  paroxysm  is  on  me,  even 

love  loses  all  its  soft  allurements,  and  beauty  all  its  blan- 

38 


fjiSb  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

dishments ;  but  don't  get  frightened.  I  never  fail  to  7'e- 
cover  so  soon  as  the  name  of  my  own  dear  *Mag'  comes 
to  my  memory  ;  the  present  then  loses  all  its  pressure  in 
the  happy  visions  of  the  future. 

"  I  would  tell  you  of  the  condition  of  many  of  your 
young  friends,  but  it  is  too  wretched  to  relate.  Any  house 
that  was  left  unburnt  in  the  valley,  has  been  entered  by 
lawless  men,  professing  to  be  soldiers,  and  rifled  of  every- 
thing possessing  the  least  value.  In  many,  too  many  in- 
stances, the  very  last  provisions  were  taken,  leaving  the 
helpless,  undefended  families  in  utter  want.  Every  species 
of  stock  was  driven  off,  and  every  vehicle  capable  of  roll- 
ing on  its  wheels,  and  nearly  all  of  the  servants  were  taken 
away,  after  being  made  to  treat  their  former  owners  with 
every  possible  indignity.  You  may  now  have  some  idea  of 
the  situation.  Suffice  it,  that  one  of  the  finest  landscapes 
of  the  South,  for  grandeur,  beauty,  freshness  and  fertility, 
now  presents  but  the  haggard  desolation  peculiar  to  the 
jDlains  of  woe ! 

"Amid  the  universal  gloom  that  surrounds  me,  and  reigns 
throughout  this  portion  of  the  valley,  there  comes  nothing 
to  relieve  my  sorrow,  but  the  memory  of  your  own  bright 
eyes,  the  loveliness  of  your  own  sweet  face,  and  the  joyous- 
ness  of  your  own  merry  laugh.  When,  either  in  dreams  or 
in  waking  hours,  these  come  back  to  me,  I  forget  my  grief 
for  all  outward  things,  and  live  over  again  the  happy  hours 
of  the  past.  Kow,  is  n't  that  speech  equivalent  to  many  of 
the  pretty  ones  you  made  to  me  ?  But  I  have  written  as 
much  as  my  strength  will  allow. 

"  Write  often ;  your  letters  revive  me.     Thanking  you 
for  your  last  long  and  pleasant  letter,  I  remain, 
"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  CaPwTer  Stafford." 

We  have  given  the  foregoing  letter  of  Colonel  Stafford 
to  Miss  Sedley,  that  our  distant  readers  may  have  some  idea 
of  the  devastations  of  the  Federal  army  wherever  they  could 
obtain  a  foothold  in  the  South.  This  conduct,  however, 
was  used  by  Confederate  leaders,  as  a  strong  argument  in 
favor  of  keeping  up  the  war.  This  style  of  reasoning  ex- 
erted but  a  sickly  sort  of  influence  in  that  direction,  wliile 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  387 

the  people  in  those  districts  continued  to  grow  more  de- 
spondent, yet  the  network  and  meshes  of  a  de  facto  govern- 
ment forced  them  to  go  on,  knowingly,  to  their  own  de- 
struction. Feeling  all  the  force  of  these  facts,  they  still 
look  upon  the  last  act  of  destroying  their  property  without 
compensation  and  without  cause,  and  many  of  the  previous 
acts  of  the  Government,  as  particularly  unjust.  They  were 
helpless,  and  if  the  Government  was  not  able  to  come  to 
their  assistance,  it  should  not  have  punished  them  for  its 
own  delinquency,  hy  the  destruction  of  their  property,  and 
other  political  degradations,  that  have  been  heaped  upon 
them,  for  that  which  they  had  no  power  to  avoid.  The  con- 
script law  was  evidence  of  their  condition  and  their  feelino-s. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

"Great  thoughts,  great  feelings  came  to  them 
Like  instincts,  unawares." 

THE  war  had  continued  to  be  prosecuted  with  its  orig- 
inal unrelenting  bitterness  and  obstinacy,  and  the 
Southern  army  had  returned  from  its  fruitless  campaign 
into  Maryland,  having,  for  the  first  time  since  the  com- 
mencement of  hostilities,  lost  some  of  its  victorious  prestige. 
Previous  to  this,  the  United  States  Government  had  trem- 
bled to  its  deepest  foundations  from  the  terrible  blows  it  had 
received  ;  but  the  attempt  to  penetrate  the  enemy's  country, 
at  once  exposed  the  munitial  weakness  of  the  South,  and 
restored  the  drooping  energies  of  the  Federal  Government. 
This  double  effect  of  the  battle  of  Sharpsburg  was  the 
beginning  of  those  reverses  which,  in  little  over  a  year 
longer,  ended  in  the  fall  of  Southern  arms,  but  left  their 
glory  and  their  chivalry  the  highest  inscribed  on  the  monu- 
ment of  military  fame,  where  the  Southern  "  Slave-driver  " 


388  BLOOM     AXD    BRIER. 

now  stands  recorded,  in  letters  of  gold,  as  the  Paladin  of 
the  modern  world.  Silence,  ye  slanderers!  Avaunt,  ye 
cowards ! 

Many  truthful  apologies  were  offered  for  the  failure  of 
the  Maryland  campaign,  and  the  Confederate  Congress, 
which  had  met  again,  felt  no  falling  off  in  its  enthusiastic 
hopes,  prophecies,  and  assurances  of  success.  INtr.  Davis, 
too,  had  announced  in  his  message  that  it  was  the  third  and 
last  year  of  the  war,  and  exhorted  the  people  to  go  on  to 
their  early  independence.  The  Confederate  capital  was 
once  again  illumined  by  the  shimmering  lights  of  a  doomed, 
but  a  fearless,  reckless,  and  voluptuous  gayety. 

Enthusiastic  but  mistaken  politicians,  fashionable  women, 
speculators,  blockade  -  runners,  contractors,  professional 
gamblers,  and  army  officers,  were  all  present,  dashing  about 
in  the  swift  confusions,  the  wild  and  blood-stained  glamour 
of  the  rebel  metropolis  —  restless,  excited,  and  panting 
after  that  which  they  knew  not  of,  nor  could  define. 

The  politicians  were  ever  plotting,  scheming,  and  speak- 
ing, and  seemed  in  daily  expectation  of  some  wonderful 
event.  The  speculators,  blockade-runners,  and  contractors 
were  looking  to  gains  ;  but  seemed  consternated  that  the 
fabulous  returns  of  to-day  resulted  in  nothing  to-morrow. 
They  themselves  were  turning  the  wheel  of  fortune,  but 
could  not  keep  pace  with  its  speed  and  changes  —  the 
higher  the  ascent,  the  swifter  and  harder  the  fall  — and  to 
the  very  last  hour,  did  not  realize  the  cause,  the  unreality. 

The  fashionable  women  —  we  name  not  their  purposes, 
had  none  perhaps  —  were  moths,  flying  around  the  garish 
lights  that  were  now  burning  to  their  sockets.  The  army 
officers,  ay,  they  knew  their  business :  they  were  on  their 
ways  to  and  fro,  from  fields  of  blood. 

On  an  evening  in  the  early  spring  of  1 863,  the  doors  of 
the  Presidential  mansion  were  thrown  open  for  reception, 
and  there  met  on  that  occasion  the  representative  men  and 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  389 

women  of  the  Confederacy  —  tlie  political  elite  of  this  new 
political  movement.  Mr.  Davis,  whatever  may  have  been 
his  attractiveness  in  younger  days,  was  now  on  the  list  of 
valetudinarians,  and  of  course,  not  very  engaging  either 
in  manners,  conversation,  or  person.  So  much  has  health 
to  do  with  amenity,  and  strength  to  do  with  impression.  He 
yet  went  through  the  formality  of  receiving  his  friends  with 
rather  an  uncommon  pleasantness,  as  he  moved  with  dignity 
through  the  vast  throng ;  and  in  return,  received  the  usual, 
if  not  the  enthusiastic  adulations  of  the  multitude,  to  the 
chief  of  what  was  chosen  to  be  considered  the  head  of  a 
successful  revolution,  and,  in  this  instance,  known  to  have 
been  borne  along  by  a  war,  unequalled  for  its  inequality, 
bitterness,  bloodshed,  and  extent,  in  the  history  of  revolu- 
tions ;  and  waged  with  a  fierce,  wild  chivalry,  which  only 
the  stories  of  mediaeval  romance  can  equal,  in  the  lights  and 
shades  of  gallantry  and  carnage.  His  Cabinet  were  present 
too,  smiling  in  the  pleasing  satisfaction  of  being  chief  ad- 
visers in  the  proud  work  of  placing  the  South  on  this  high 
tide  of  national  greatness. 

Army  officers  of  every  grade  were  also  there,  who  very 
justly  eclipsed  the  heroes  of  peace  and  "bomb-proofs"  in 
attention  from  those  who,  in  some  of  the  walks  of  life,  con- 
trol the  reputations  of  men — the  women. 

Prominent  among  the  latter  were  our  old  friends,  Colonel 
Brandon,  General  Campbell,  and  Colonel  Stafford,  who, 
with  others  of  military  distinction  were  the  observed  of  the 
evening. 

Colonel  Brandon  had  never  been  a  warm  admirer  of  Mr. 
Davis,  and  this  was  his  first  presence  in  the  Presidential 
mansion.  While  walking  leisurely  about  and  observing 
the  company,  he  accidentally  met  with  Miss  Sedley,  leaning 
on  the  arm  of  Colonel  Stafford.  He  had  not  seen  her 
before  during  the  evening,  nor  indeed,  for  several  weeks 
previous  to  this,  and  the  meeting  was  mutually  agreeable. 


390  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Congratulating  him  on  his  first  appearance  at  a  Presiden- 
tial reception,  she  immediately  asked  him  to  let  her  have 
the  honor  of  personally  introducing  him,  as  he  had  always 
promised  her  she  should  do,  if  she  ever  obtained  his  con- 
sent, to  be  made  acquainted  with  Mr.  Davis.  His  previous 
refusal  to  have  personal  presentation  was  well  known  to  his 
friends,  and  none  of  them  had  approached  him  on  the  mat- 
ter, when  Miss  Sedley  proposed  it. 

The  opportunity  was  a  favorable  one,  and  from  his  pres- 
ence that  evening  she  supposed  he  had  overcome  what  he 
called  his  reluctance,  whether  founded  on  prejudice  or  not, 
and,  therefore,  she  repeated  the  request,  to  which  Brandon 
jocularly  replied : 

"  I  appreciate  the  pleasure  of  having  been  introduced  to 
Miss  Sedley,  some  two  years  and  more  since,  far  higher  than 
I  should  the  distinction  of  being  introduced  to  Mr.  Davis, 
even  by  so  fair  an  interlocutor  as  Miss  Sedley  herself  is." 

"Oh!  Colonel  Brandon;  you  certainly  have  all  the  ele- 
ments for  making  a  most  successful  courtier,  and  the  won- 
der is  that  you  do  not  avail  yourself  of  them.  INTeither  the 
reputation  which  you  have  gained  of  being  a  man  of  bril- 
liant intellect,  nor  that  of  being  a  distinguished  soldier, 
appears  in  the  least  to  have  soothed  your  secession  asperity^ 
or  modified  your  views." 

"  No,  lady  ;  you  are  right ;  the  constant  exposure  of  this 
sacred  person  of  mine  to  the  danger  of  secession  battle- 
fields are  but  poor  persuasives  in  that  direction." 

''  You  should  not  lay  the  charge  of  exposure  to  danger 
at  the  door  of  secession,  since  it  is  voluntary  on  your  part." 

"  Yes  ;  you  are  partially  right ;  but  then  I  cannot  sepa- 
rate myself  from  my  own  people,  or  plead  exemption  from 
their  fortunes,  because  of  the  mistakes  of  our  leaders; 
every  instinct  of  my  heart  requires  me  to  go  with  them. 
Yet  I  cannot  look  upon  these  prominent  officials  as  kindly 
perhaps  as  I  should." 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  391 

"Let  me  beg  you, Colonel,  as  a  young  lady  who  admires 
you  very  much,  not  to  indulge  in  such  idiosyncrasies  of 
opinion.  You  differ  from  all  your  best  friends,  who  are 
desirous  oi  jnomoting  you,  if  you  would  only  place  yourself 
or  let  them  place  you  in  the  line  of  promotion.  Why,  sir, 
when  this  war  is  ended,  our  Government  wmII  be  the  courted 
cue  of  the  earth;  and  nothing  is* more  certain  than  your 
securing  a  foreign  mission,  which  you  know  would  be  quite 
agreeable,  and  nothing  more  than  you  deserve." 

"Ah!  if  I  valued  such  a  position,  my  only  chance  for 
obtaining  it,  lies  in  the  betrayal  of  the  Confederacy." 

"Why  do  you  say  that.  Colonel?" 

"  Simply,  because  the  Confederacy  has  the  only  ministers 
abroad  she  will  ever  have." 

"  Are  you  not  afraid,  sir,  to  make  such  sweeping  re- 
marks?" said  she,  laughingly. 

"  Why  should  I  fear.  Miss  Sedley ;  can  I  fear  such  men 
as  I  see  around  me  to-night  ?  What  proportion  of  fighting 
men  is  here  ?  one  in  ten,  ay,  one  in  fifty  —  and  this  fact  is 
spreading  all  over  the  South.  If  Mr.  Davis  could  only 
appreciate  these  facts,  he  would  see  his  case  to  be  a  hope- 
less one,  and  at  once  begin  negotiations  for  a  re-entrance 
to  the  Union." 

"  I  fear  you  are  about  to  yield  up  that  favorite  idea  of 
yours,  with  which  you  once  so  delighted  me.  The  superi- 
ority of  the  Southern  to  the  Puritan,  the  Norman  to  the 
Saxon." 

"  No ;  so  far  from  giving  it  up,  I  am  more  confirmed  in 
it  than  ever.  The  few  cannot  overcome  the  many,  let  what 
advantages  exist  on  the  part  of  the  few  that  may.  The 
true  Southern  blood,  I  mean  the  Norman,  whether  you  find 
it  in  the  rich  or  the  great,  the  poor  or  the  humble,  is  the 
best  in  the  world ;  better  now  in  this  country  than  in  Eng- 
land. It  has  improved  by  transportation,  the  circumstances 
of  the  country,  and  the  influence  upon  it  of  African  slavery ; 


392  BLOOM    AXD    BRIEK. 

yet  it  has  some  of  the  very  worst,  I  had  almost  said  meanest 
elements  that  enter  into  human  constitution,  which,  when 
not  controlled  by  education  or  other  moral  influence,  cul- 
minates in  very  bad  character  ;  but  altogether,  the  Southern 
people  have  more  of  that  combination  of  qualities  which 
bears  up  under  any  and  all  pressure,  than  any  people  of 
the  world  ;  but  mind  you  again,  all  of  the  Southern  people 
are  not  Norman.  There  are  many ;  yes,  a  very  large  per 
cent,  now  of  a  nondescript,  mongrel  cast,  whose  persons, 
character,  and  opinions  cannot  be  traced  to  any  one  race, 
blood,  intellect,  or  nationality  —  don't  know  who  or  what 
they  are  ;  and  these  are  more  to  be  watched  and  avoided 
than  any  people  I  know.  This  class  of  Southerners  are 
dangerous  without  being  brave,  unfeeling  and  unsym- 
pathetic without  especial  ill-will,  grasping  without  being 
stingy  —  with  no  particular  character  of  emotion,  no 
standard  of  conduct,  good  or  bad ;  nor  any  well-ordered 
purposes  ;  negative  as  to  honor  and  honesty,  and  always 
acting  according  to  circumstances." 

"  Colonel  Brandon,"  replied  Miss  Sedley,  "  I  apprehend 
that  laggardism  in  certain  quarters  has  somewhat  embit- 
tered you.     How  can  you  tell  this  class  ?  " 

"  You  used  the  right  word  —  laggardism.  A  true  South- 
ron may  be  an  idler,  either  from  habit  or  from  circum- 
stances ;  but  never  a  coward,  a  skulker,  or  a  laggard,  and 
by  one  or  the  other,  you  can  safely  class  this  fellow." 

"  By  that  rule  there  is  many  a  mongrel  among  us." 

"  Yes  ;  enough  to  have  assisted  greatly  in  bringing  on  the 
war,  and  certainly  enough  to  make  it  fail." 

"  And  vou  still  think  the  South  will  fail,  Colonel  Bran- 
don?" 

"  I  certainly  do." 

"  Then  why  do  you  expose  your  life  ?  " 

"  For  several  reasons ;  and  first,  because  I  did  not  have 
the  moral  courage  to  resist  doing  so  after  I  had  opposed  it. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  393 

I  did  not  wish  the  charge  of  fear  to  be  brought  against  me  ; 
but  last,  I  desired  that  the  South  should  make  history  at 
least,  as  I  knew  she  could  never  succeed  in  accomplishing 
her  purposes ;  and  required  every  man's  strength." 

"  Are  these  the  reasons  for  which  you  expose  your  life?  " 

"  Yes ;  the  leading  ones  at  least,  and  I  feel  this  moment 
that  I  am  wrong,  and  will  suffer  for  it." 

"  In  what  way,  Colonel  Brandon  ?  " 

"  ^yith  my  life." 

"  OR !  Colonel  Brandon  ;  you  make  me  shudder  by  the 
coolness  of  your  speculations." 

"  So  I  may  ;  but  they  are  such  as  I  feel." 

Colonel  Stafford  had  left  Miss  Sedley  in  company  with 
Colonel  Brandon,  very  soon  after  they  met,  and  they  had 
had  the  foregoing  conversation,  while  walking  slowly  to- 
gether through  the  room.  Just  as  he  uttered  the  last 
words,  they  passed  near  Mr.  Davis,  who  immediately  rec- 
ognizing her,  stepped  in  front,  and  spoke  in  a  very  cordial 
manner,  as  he  had  always  professed  a  high  admiration  for 
her.  She  replied  to  his  pleasant  salutation,  and  imme- 
diately introduced  Colonel  Brandon. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

"Lofty  and  proud,  to  them  that  loved  him  not; 
But  to  those  men  that  sought  him,  sweet  as  summer." 

I  AM  glad  to  meet  you.  Colonel  Brandon,"  said  Mr. 
Davis,  in  reply  to  the  introduction  of  Miss  Sedley,  at 
the  same  time  shaking  him  cordially  by  the  hand  ;  "  your 
services,  your  reputation,  and  your  friends  have  made  your 
name  very  familiar  to  me,  and  I  have  often  desired  to  meet 
with  you." 


394  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  sir,  and  also  to  my  friends,  for  the 
polite  mention  which  has  secured  such  distinguished  rec- 
ognition, and  permit  me  to  be  as  justly  complimentary  to 
yourself — I,  too,  have  heard  very  favorably  and  approv- 
ingly of  Mr.  Davis,  from  his  friends." 

"  Thank  you,  Colonel,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  in  a  more  ani- 
mated manner  than  usual,  with  the  color  rising  to  his  pal- 
lid features,  as  if  scarcely  comprehending  the  words  of 
Colonel  Brandon ;  "  I  have  always  endeavored  to  be  worthy 
of  the  kind  consideration  and  approval  of  my  frienJs." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Miss  Sedley,  who  was  on  familiar 
terms  with  fhem  both,  "  pardon  me  for  introducing  a  card- 
playing  technicality  as  illustrative  of  your  language  — 
*  honors  are  easy '  betAveen  you  in  the  way  of  compliment ; 
you  must,  therefore,  allow  me  to  add  my  contribution  to 
the  courtesies  of  the  evening,  by  saying  that  I  have  never 
known  a  mutuality  of  congratulations  so  worthily  made." 

Both  gentlemen  immediately  bowed  to  her,  and  Mr. 
Davis  replied,  '*'  Unless  you  had  been  one  of  the  parties, 
Miss  Margaret." 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Davis,  this  is  not  the  first  obligation  you  have 
placed  me  under;  yet  I  am  always  happy  to  see  your  mind 
relieve  itself  from  the  pressure  oi  Federal  affairs,  and  stray 
away  into  its  natural  realm  of  poetry  —  bagatelle." 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Lincoln  may  be  a  very  clever  man,  but  he  is 
a  good  deal  like  Banquo's  ghost  —  he  often  comes  to  my 
mind  without  bidding,  and  yet  he  is  graceful  enough  to 
vanish  before  the  presence  of  beauty.  Does  my  answer  suit 
your  meaning  ?  " 

"  Most  assuredly,"  she  replied,  laughing  heartily.  "  Colo- 
nel Brandon,  had  you  any  idea  that  the  chief  rebel  of 
the  earth  could  so  unbend  his  bow  as  to  enter  the  lists  of 
compliment  with  a  country  girl  ?  " 

"  The  strongest  bow  should  be  unstrung  when  not  in  use, 
Miss  Margaret,  and  Mr.  Davis  could  certainly  have  no 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  395 

more  pleasing  and  proper  occasion  to  do  so,  than  wlicu 
meeting  with  yourself." 

The  conversation  had  gradually  changed  to  more  serious 
subjects,  when  Colonel  Brandon  said : 

"Will  you  permit  me  to  ask  a  question  of  you,  Mr. 
Davis,^  which,  as  it  may  appear  rather  bold,  you  may  re- 
serve an  answer,  if  you  think  it  an  improper  one  to  reply 
to?" 

"  Certainly,  Colonel  Brandon  ;  a  soldier  of  such  gallant- 
ry has  a  right  to  ask  what  question  he  pleases." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  sir ;  but  it  has  been  asserted,  by 
those,  of  course,  who  were  not  friendly  to  your  cause,  that 
even  before  the  election  of  Lincoln,  the  Southern  leaders 
had  resolved  on,  and  arranged  all  the  details  of  a  separate 
government ;  is  there  any  truth  in  it  ?  " 

"  None  whatever,  to  my  knowledge.  The  wdiole  thing 
was  improvised  at  the  meeting  of  the  first  Provisional  Con- 
gress, at  Montgomery,  and  I  entertained  great  hopes,  up  to 
that  time,  that  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  would 
offer  some  conciliatory  proposition  —  which  it  ought  to 
have  done,  and  was  well  able  to  do." 

"  Would  you,  then,  be  willing  to  return  to  that  Govern- 
ment, if  proper  reparations  and  guarantees  were  assured  to 
you  ?  " 

"  No  ;  not  now\  They  w^ere  refused  to  us,  and  we  have 
declared  to  the  w^orld  that  we  are  a  free  and  independent 
Government,  and  have,  in  some  sort,  been  recognized  as 
such  ;  and  by  the  unsurpassed  gallantry  of  our  army,  have 
measurably  secured  the  position.  To  return  would,  there- 
fore, be  to  compromise  our  character,  and  the  chivalry  of 
our  soldiers." 

"  Do  you  think  the  doctrine  of  '  State  Rights,'  as  under- 
stood in  this  country,  Mr.  Davis,  a  legitimate  principle  in 
the  science  of  government  ?  " 

"No,  I  do  not ;  I  think  it  a  pure  Americanism,  growing 


396  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

out  of  our  confederated  system,  and  therefore,  only  legiti- 
mate by  circumstances ;  but  it  was  the  only  safety  of  the 
South,  while  in  confederation  with  the  stronger  States  of 
the  North." 

"Yes,  I  am  aware  of  the  arguments  given  in  defence 
of  the  doctrine,  and  my  reason  for  asking,  was  to  learn 
whether  you  did  not  think  it  a  dangerous  one  to  introduce 
into  the  New  Government." 

"  Yes,  I  certainly  do  ;  it  leaves  too  wide  a  field  for  arbi- 
trary action  in  the  States." 

"  I  have  heard  you  say  the  same  thing.  Colonel  Bran- 
don," said  Miss  Sedley,  "  and  am  pleased  to  see  two  gentle- 
men agree,  who  the  world  thinks  so  wide  apart." 

"  You  perhaps  have  heard,  Mr.  Davis  —  that,  at  least,  is 
the  allusion  of  Miss  Sedley  —  that  I  opposed  Secession,  and 
am  yet  of  opinion,  that  we  will  fail  to  establish  a  separate 
Government." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  have  heard  of  your  views,  and  fully  recog- 
nize your  right  to  express  them  ;  but  would  suggest  the 
policy  of  not  expressing  them  too  publicly,  or  your  own  men 
might  desert  you." 

"  Not  the  least  danger  of  that,  sir ;  but  let  me  ask  you 
again,  and  pardon  me  for  detaining  you." 

"  Certainly ;  I  feel  great  pleasure  in  conversing  with  you, 
Colonel  Brandon,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  interrupting  him. 

"Was  the  precise  purpose,  in  withdrawing  from  the 
Union,  that  of  perpetuating  Slavery  ? " 

"  No  ;  it  was  not  mine,  at  least ;  as  I  knew  slavery  to  be 
stronger  in  the  Union  than  out.  I  believe,  however,  that 
some  did  believe  it  would  be  strengthened,  and  from  them 
the  idea  obtained  prevalence.  My  course  had  its  founda- 
tion in  what  I  saw  to  be  organic  difference  between  the 
Northern  and  Southern  people — their  perfect  incompati- 
bility, and  the  difference  in  their  interests.  No  ;  the  South 
no  longer  required  negro  labor  to  the  extent  —  the  manner, 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  397 

at  least,  in  which  she  was  using  it.  Let  slavery  have  been 
what  it  may  to  us  in  the  past,  it  is  now  acting  as  a  blight 
upon  the  higher  destinies  of  the  South,  in  perfectly  neu- 
tralizing its  capital.  We  require  no  more  of  such  develop- 
ment as  that  style  of  labor  brings  about.  Mind  you,  I 
only  speak  of  slavery,  as  at  present  sustained  and  employed, 
from  an  economical  point  of  view,  (so  far  as  the  negro 
himself  is  concerned,  he  is  better  off  as  a  slave  in  the  South, 
than  he  has  ever  been  elsewhere,  or  can  be  as  a  jree  man. 
His  labor,  too,  as  at  present  organized,  is  essential  to  the 
present  prosperity  of  the  South,  and  to  the  prevention  of  a 
financial  collapse ;)  but  I  allude  to  his  title  by  purchase, 
and  the  single  direction  of  agriculture  in  which  his  labor 
is  held.  Purchased  labor  is  neces.^arily  the  dearest  that 
can  be  used,  and  you  yourself  know  the  operations  —  it  is 
to  make  cotton  to  buy  negroes,  and  buy  negroes  to  make 
cotton.  The  cotton  thus  depreciates,  and  the  labor,  which 
produces  it,  appreciates  in  even  greater  ratio.  We  must 
see  the  eventual  result  of  this  —  it  is  already  partially 
developed." 

"  Yes ;  I  have  long  looked  at  the  subject  from  the  same 
point ;  but  have  you  ever  speculated  as  to  any  practical 
method  of  getting  out  of  this  never-ending  but  narrowing 
circle?" 

"  I  have ;  but  the  popular  mind  is  not  prepared  to  re- 
ceive any  propositions  tending  in  that  direction,  and  this 
fact  is  largely  attributable  to  the  Northern  abolitionism, 
with  which  the  mind  of  the  whole  North  has  become  in- 
fected, and  which  the  South  is  not  disposed  to  bear  with." 

*'  Does  your  plan  contemplate  the  negro  becoming  a  full 
citizen  ?  —  a  suffragan  ?  —  a  freeman  ?  " 

"  By  no  means ;  we  do  not  need  him  as  a  citizen ;  we 
could  make  no  possible  use  of  his  feeble  intellect.  Suffrage 
naturally  and  properly  accompanies  and  flows  from  intelli- 
gence and  wealth  —  where  there  is  neither,  it  should  never 
34 


398  BLOOM    AND    BEIER. 

be  bestowed,  and  always  becomes  otherwise  a  fruitful  source 
of  trouble.  Demagogues  who  wish  to  secure  place  and 
powder,  would  immediately  make  use  of  him.  No  Govern- 
ment can  escape  civil  commotions,  when  suffrage  is  uni- 
versal —  its  constant  effort  is  to  attack  capital.  The  less 
suffrage  there  is  in  a  country  up  to  a  certain  point,  the 
freer,  the  happier,  and  the  more  peaceful  the  people,  and 
the  stronger  the  Government." 

"  I  am  happy  to  agree  with  you  in  these  questions.  But 
will  you  give  me  your  opinion  as  to  the  ultimate  fortune  or 
end  of  the  negro,  in  event  of  his  qualified  emancipation, 
which  I  infer  you  have  reference  to  ? " 

"  I  shall  have  to  answer  that  question  by  throwing  the 
whole  responsibility  on  a  special  Providence;  his  final 
exodus  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Almighty,  by  whose  special 
economy  he  is  here,  and  for  special  purposes.  These  pur- 
poses are  in  process  of  final  accomplishment,  which  we  can 
now  begin  to  see ;  and  we  may  very  properly  suppose  that 
he  will  pass  back  to  his  own  native  land  by  the  same  hand, 
pari  passu.  From  a  human  point  of  observation,  the  order 
of  nature  and  progress  of  society  will  suggest  the  proper 
method  of  departure.  Many  would  soon  die,  many  remain 
among  us  for  a  great  number  of  years,  and  many  would 
pass  back  to  the  tropics,  in  the  service  of  some  great 
Evangelical  economy.  These  latitudes  of  ours  have  been 
assigned  to  the  Caucasian  races,  by  the  great  Creator,  even 
as  every  race  has  been  assigned  to  its  proper  latitude,  and  we 
must  suppose  that  He  knew  His  own  work  better  than  we. 
The  negro  in  this  latitude  is  completely  abnormal,  even 
while  he  has  improved  and  prospered ;  but  this  result  has 
only  followed,  because  there  was  a  special  economy  in  it, 
and  because  of  his  protection  by  the  white  man:  for  whose 
temporary  benefit  he  was  placed  here,  so  far  as  we  can 
absolutely  know.  The  withdrawal  of  this  care  of  the  white 
man  will  very  soon  have  the  effect  of  perfectly  placing 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  399 

this  land  in  the  hands  of  the  white  man,  and  restoring  the 
black  man  to  his.  The  negro  has  no  natural  rights  in  these 
latitudes:  his  mission  here  was  labor,  and  his  reward  was 
civilization  ;  he  has  performed  the  one,  and  is  receiving  the 
other.  As  a  trained  laborer  and  civilized  man,  destiny- 
points  him  back  to  the  tropics." 

Several  minutes  had  been  consumed  by  this  conversation, 
a  much  longer  time  than  Mr.  Davis  usually  consumed  with 
any  persons  outside  of  business  ;  but  in  this  instance  he  had 
done  so  with  a  marked  interest.  As  he  made  his  last  re- 
marks, Colonel  Stafford  returned  to  the  side  of  Miss  Sedley, 
when  the  President  bowed  partially,  and,  thanking  Colonel 
Brandon  for  the  very  pleasant  interview,  passed  along. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

"  Taciturnity  is  wise,  if  men  are  fools ;  but  foolish,  if  they  are  wise." 

COLONEL  BRANDON,  you  have  been  the  occasion  of 
the  most  entertaining  half-hour  that  I  have  spent  for 
many  days,"  said  Margaret  Sedley,  as  Mr.  Davis  walked 
off.  "  I  was  astonished  at  his  letting  you  draw  him  out  as 
you  did." 

"  And  you  both  have  been  the  observed  of  all  observers," 
said  Colonel  Stafford. 

"  Yes ;  the  President  very  highly  distinguished  us." 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Colonel  Brandon,  laughing;  "  I 
think  the  distinction  was  at  least  mutual." 

"  Oh,  Colonel  Brandon  !  I  had  begun  to  form  high  hopes 
of  making  you  quite  a  courtier,  but  here  you  are  falling 
back  upon  your  individuality  —  your  political  cynicism. 
You  made  great  improvement,  Colonel,  as  the  interview 


400  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

lasted.  At  first  you  made  me  feel  chilly ;  did  you  not  feel 
a  little  so  ? " 

"No, miss;  if  I  never  have  greater  cause  for  chilliness 
than  from  any  expression  of  private  opinions  to  Mr.  Davis, 
I  shall  not  only  always  be  in  a  very  genial  mood,  but  re- 
turn home  from  this  war  uninjured.  Even  had  I  not  been 
in  the  array,  I  should  not  fear  either  to  ask  him  questions, 
or  to  express  opinions,  unless  I  should  foolishly  do  so,  to 
damage  the  public  cause  he  represents.  He  is  said  to  be  a 
most  excellent  gentleman  in  private  life,  and  much  loved 
by  his  friends  and  neighbors  for  his  honorable  and  gener- 
ous bearing." 

"  Is  it  really  so,  Colonel  Brandon,  that  you  have  never 
before  been  introduced  to  Mr.  Davis  ? "  asked  Colonel 
Stafford. 

"  Certainly  so;  and  it  was  a  high  piece  of  finesse  on  the 
part  of  Miss  Sedley,  that  I  was,  this  evening.  I  did  not 
desire  or  expect  it.  I  met  with  him  frequently  in  Mexico, 
but  I  was  then  a  very  young  man,  and  he  has,  of  course, 
forgotten  me ;  since  then  I  have  never  met  with  him  until 
to-night.  He  is  unsurpassed  for  gallantry,  and  was  badly 
wounded  at  Buena  Vista." 

"  Did  n't  you  meet  with  him  while  the  Confederate  Capi- 
tal was  at  Montgomery?" 

"  No.  I  should  have  called  on  him  probably,  but  men  of 
my  style  of  opinion  were  not  very  favorably  looked  upon, 
at  that  time,  at  Court.  I,  therefore,  did  not  see  proper  to 
compromise  myself:  I  could  not  have  changed  him,  nor  he 
me." 

"  You  could  have  called  on  him  without  being  expected 
to  proselyte,  or  to  be  proselyted." 

"  Yes ;  but  I  did  not  feel  greatly  pleased  with,  and  chose 
not  to  see  him." 

"  You  appeared  to  agree  very  well,  this  evening,  Colo- 
nel.    Who  has  changed  ? "  said  Miss  Sedley,  quizzically. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  401 

"Oh,  certainly;  men  Avho  profess  to  be  gentlemen,  and 
men  of  sense,  can't  entirely  disagree ;  but  I  was  surprised 
to  hear  him  express  himself  so  freely,  liberally,  and  so  phi- 
losophically. Yet,  I  don't  feel  willing  to  forgiye  him  for 
Secession  ;  he  could  have  stopped  it,  and  ought  to  have 
done  it.     He  knew  better." 

"  And  yet.  Colonel  Brandon,  Mr.  Davis  only  presides 
over  it,  while  you  are  fighting  the  only  Government  you 
recognize,  for  it." 

"  Yes,  but  you  know  my  reasons  —  if  they  can  be  digni- 
fied as  such.  If  I  had  my  way,  there  should  not  be  another 
gun  fired.  It  caji  be  settled,  and  should  be ;  one  side  is  as 
wrong  as  the  other.  The  time  had  not  come  for  separa- 
tion, and  it  cannot  be  done  ;  it  may  at  some  future  time, 
and  I  expect  it  will,  even  into  more  than  two  separate  gov- 
ernments." 

"  What  would  be  your  plan,  Colonel,  for  stopping  the 
war?" 

"  Negotiation.  Have  the  Confederate  Congress  to  ap- 
point Commissioners  to  meet  others  from  the  United  States. 
The  South  can  lose  nothing  by  negotiation.  The  soiled 
helmets  and  battered  shields  of  the  Federal  army  are 
eternal  records  of  Southern  chivalry.  Propositions  of  peace, 
so  far  from  degrading,  would  only  elevate  us.  Now,  I 
am  no  political  sentimentalist,  and  feel  nothing  of  this  tom- 
foolery called  patriotism.  I  will  love  any  flag  that  can 
protect  me,  and  hate  any  that  cannot;  and  I  like  that  of 
the  United  States  far  less  than  I  did,  simply  because  it 
could  not  come,  and  has  never  yet  been  able  to  come,  to  my 
relief.  It  yet  has  more  power  than  that  of  the  Confederacy, 
and  that  is  the  ground  of  my  preference :  for  every  other, 
I  prefer  the  one  I  am  at  present  under ;  this  must  fail  —  I 
therefore,  have  but  little  love  for  it." 

A  short  pause  ensuing  in  the  conversation,  Colonel  Staf- 
ford remarked  that  he  >Yas  a  little  surprised  at  seeing  Mr. 
34* 


402  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Davis  depart  from  his  reputed  austerity  so  far  as  to  enter 
upon  so  familiar  and  easy  a  conversation,  as  that  with  Col- 
onel Brandon  and  Miss  Sedley. 

"  He  was  in  courtesy  obliged  to,  after  seeking  it  with  us ; 
but,  Miss  Margaret,  I  am  indebted  to  you  for  whatever  of 
distinction  there  is  in  his  unusual  course,  as  you  were  evi- 
dently the  first  attraction." 

"  Ah,  you  do  yourself  injustice,  Colonel  Brandon,  for  cer- 
tainly, the  glow^-worm  brightness  of  a  weak  girl  could  not 
have  been  so  attractive  as  the  dashing  deeds  and  dazzling 
insignia  of  Mars.  No,  sir,  the  honor,  whatever  it  is,  belongs 
to  the  gallantry  of  the  soldier  —  I  may  possibly  have  been 
the  pretext." 

"  Well,  Miss  Margaret ;  to  your  part,  be  it  as  humble  as 
it  may,  I  owe  the  effect  of  being  disabused  of  some  mis- 
apprehension, or  prejudice,  in  regard  to  Mr.  Davis,  which 
may  possibly  be  of  benefit  to  one  or  the  other  of  us  at  a 
future  day.  The  destiny  of  some  persons  is  to  be  —  and  a 
lovely  one  it  is  —  that  of  developing  good  in  others. 
Passive  as  it  may  appear  to  be,  the  capacity  or  gift,  is  a 
rare  one,  and  of  the  highest  value.  Shakspeare  had  the 
idea  of  it  in  his  mind,  when  he  makes  poor  old  Jack  Fal- 
staflT  say,  that  he  was  the  cause  of  wit  in  others." 

"  Thank  you.  Colonel,  for  your  implied  compliment :  to 
be  an  agency  of  good  would  bring  me  great  pleasure ;  but 
as  I  cannot  realize  it,  shall  for  the  present  plume  myself 
upon  your  assertion,  and  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of  having 
even  been  the  passive  source  of  a  better  understanding 
between  two  such  distinguished  persons." 

At  this  moment,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bay  came  up  to  them, 
when  the  former  said : 

"  Well,  Brandon  ;  I  believe  every  one  in  the  room  this 
evening  was  attracted  to  the  meeting  and  long  conversation 
between  yourself  and  the  President,  and  we  are  all  now  to 
look  for  peace  with  great  confidence,  on  the  score  of  the 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  403 

promise  that  there  shall  be  universal  amnesty,  when  the 
lion  lies  down  with  the  lamb." 

"  Ah  !  has  that  remote  promise  come  up  for  realization? 
But  who  the  lion  and  who  the  lamb  ?  " 

"  That  subject  presented  some  difficulty  of  solution,"  said 
^Ir.  Ray  ;  "  but  I  believe  every  one  gave  you  the  advantage 
of  position,  and  let  Mr.  Davis  be  the  lamb." 

"Yes,"  said  Brandon,  with  a  laugh,  "quite  the  advan- 
tage.    It  appears  to  be  known  then,  that  we  have  differed." 

"  Certainly ;  you  are  known  to  be  opposed  to  the  Con- 
federacy, yet  fight  for  it,  while  you  quarrel,  with  all  the 
peerless  gallantry  of  a  knight  in  the  days  of  chivalry," 
added  Mrs.  Ray. 

"Thank  you,  madam;  and  I  am  obliged,  too,  to  my 
friends  for  this  flattering  opinion.  I  really  do  believe  we 
are  nearer  a  peace  than  is  generally  apprehended ;  but 
whether  in  the  shape  that  either  Mr.  Davis  or  myself  would 
desire,  is  another  question." 

"  Has  n't  the  long  interview  between  you  and  the  Presi- 
dent quieted  your  fears  on  that  head,  Brandon  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Ray. 

"  Not  at  all ;  his  confidence  has  rather  increased  them  ; 
but  we  were  not  endeavoring  to  convince  each  other  of 
error;  and  in  many  things  came  quite  nigh  agreeing  —  in 
feeling,  if  not  in  opinion.  If  the  Congressional  pressure 
upon  him  was  less  than  it  is,  a  rather  more  sensible  course 
than  has  of  late  been  pursued,  might  be  hoped  for.  So 
much  for  a  people  sending  weak  men  to  make  laws.  In 
our  instance,  it  would  be  better  to  let  the  conscript  officer 
have  the  whole  Congress.  Indeed,  a  Confederate  Congress 
is  —  but  never  mind.  AVith  a  Congress,  the  Confederacy 
will  fall,  and  everything  we  have  be  swept  from  us.  With- 
out it,  it  may  stand.  We  want  neither  Congress  nor  Con- 
stitution, but  vide^^potism  —  One  Man,  men  and  munitions 
—  these  are  all  that  any  civil  war  requires." 


404  BLOOM    AND    BRIEE. 

"You  can't  help  your  sarcasm,  Brandon;  but  we  shall 
have  to  allow  it  to  you,  as  you  hold  the  strong  position  of 
the  evening.  We  cannot  attack  you  while  under  executive 
protection,"  said  Mr.  Ray,  good-naturedly. 

"I  beg  pardon,  Ray ;  as  I  assure  you  I  had  no  personal 
allusion  whatever,"  replied  Brandon,  laughing. 

It  had  now  grown  quite  late,  and  the  company  had  begun 
to  leave.  Colonel  Brandon  and  Colonel  Staflbrd  seeing 
the  President  near,  walked  up  and  bid  him  good  evening. 
Mr.  Davis  thanked  Brandon  for  his  presence  that  evening, 
and  assured  him  that  it  would  always  be  a  pleasure  to  meet 
him,  whenever  the  duties  of  either  would  allow  it,  and 
turning  to  Colonel  Stafford,  said : 

"  Betwixt  you  and  I,  Colonel  Stafford,  there  is  already 
no  ceremony." 

The  two  officers  then  returned  to  the  ladies,  and  bidding 
them  good  evening,  left  for  their  quarters. 

Not  a  great  while  after  this,  the  President  "trod"  alone 
the  "  mansion  halls  deserted."  Many  had  been  there  that 
evening  with  gay  hearts  and  high  hopes,  who  never  met 
there  again.  The  bright  lamps  of  the  levee  proved  to  be 
"  the  dead  lights  "  of  life  to  them. 


CHAPTER  Xy. 

"High-stomached  are  they  both,  and  full  of  ire; 
In  rage,  deaf  as  the  Sea,  hasty  as  Fire." 

IN  July,  1863,  according  to  the  policy  which  was  then 
popular  at  the  Confederate  capital,  of  invading  the 
"  enemy's  country,"  General  Lee,  en  route  for  Washing- 
ton, was  encamped  near  Gettysburg,  Pennsylvania,  having 
halted  his  forces  at  the  immediate  point,  until  he  should 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  405 

receive  reliable  information  of  the  position  and  strength 
of  the  Federal  army  from  General  Stuart,  the  distinguished 
and  favorite  cavalry  officer  of  the  army  of  Virginia.  In 
this  instance  he  failed  of  his  usual  success  in  coming  up 
to  time,  -which  proved  the  loss  of  the  campaign  to  the 
Southern  army. 

General  Lee,  in  waiting,  gave  the  Federal  General  time 
to  occupy  the  almost  impregnable  heights  and  mountain 
ranges  of  the  region  in  his  front,  with  an  army  vastly- 
superior  in  numbers,  equipments,  and  munitions.  There 
were  routes  by  which  General  Lee  could  have  avoided  the 
battle  at  that  point,  and  drawn' the  enemy  from  his  position, 
and,  considering  the  animus  of  his  men,  have  made  a  success- 
ful march  on  Washington ;  but  he  did  not  —  such  is  fate. 
This  is  supposition ;  but  as  we  are  not  discussing  the  mili- 
tary aspects  of  campaigns,  we  have  merely  borrowed  the 
assertion,  from  what  has  since  been  said  to  be  the  fact ; 
suflBce  it.  General  Lee  moved  up  to  the  enemy,  and  fought 
the  battle  of  Gettysburg. 

It  is  said  by  those  who  participated  in  the  leading  battles 
of  the  army  of  Virginia,  that  the  battle  of  Gettysburg  was 
fought  under  tenfold  greater  disadvantages  than  any  one 
of  the  great  pitched  battles  of  the  war,  and  with  more  dis- 
tinguished heroism  on  the  part  of  both  men  and  officers. 

The  inequalities  of  position  and  numbers  were  as  great 
as  the  enemy  could  desire,  to  secure  a  most  overwhelming 
defeat  of  the  Confederate  array  ;  all  of  which  did  result  in 
a  most  disastrous  mortuary  list  of  officers,  as  well  as  men, 
on  the  Southern  side  —  and  loss  of  the  battle.  It  was  here 
that  the  Confederacy  received  its  first  fatal  blow.  The 
grand  old  army  of  Virginia,  here  lost  its  brilliant  prestige 
of  victory,  and  though  it  afterward  fought  some  of  the 
most  terrible  battles  of  the  war,  with  the  same  undaunted 
chivalry  as  of  old,  its  strength  was  too  far  gone  to  even 
hold  a  victory  which  it  had  won.     Yet  there  were  but  few, 


406  BLOOM    AXD    BRIER. 

or  none,  of  our  leading  men,  whose  penetration  or  prejudice 
allowed  them  to  see  this  palpable,  glaring  fact.  As  a  con- 
sequence, the  South  was  driven  along  to  the  extremest  point 
of  vital  action  ;  and  on  the  day  of  her  final  fall,  and  even 
when  degradation  came,  it  was  rather  a  relief  than  a  shock 
—  she  had  already  done  all  it  was  in  mortal  power  to  do. 

There  was  a  rude  but  sombre  romance  in  the  rocky  cliffs 
and  mountains  around  Gettysburg,  that  made  it  an  appro- 
priate place  for  the  echoing  thunders,  and  terrible  carnage 
of  war  —  for  the  solemn  death-knell  of  a  great  revolution, 
the  fall  of  a  gallant  army,  and  the  ruin  of  a  brave  and 
injured  people. 

The  last  day  of  the  battle  has  been  spoken  of  as  the  great 
artillery  duel  of  the  war,  in  which  men  were  not  so  much 
thrown  on  each  other  in  individual  strife,  where  passions 
become  excited  to  the  point  of  fierce  brutality ;  but  of  a 
magnificent  contest  of  arms,  carried  on  with  great  guns, 
by  regiments,  brigades,  cohorts,  and  divisions,  at  that  dis- 
tance apart,  which  forbade  all  personal  anger.  Outside  the 
desperate  charges  made  to  dislodge  the  enemy,  men  and 
officers  stood  to  their  places  and  their  pieces,  and  mutually 
sent  into  the  ranks  of  each  other,  missiles  of  death  by  the 
myriad,  and  received  them  too,  as  quietly  as  at  a  council 
of  peace ;  and  met  death  as  calmly  as  men  going  simply 
to  rest. 

As  an  officer  or  private  fell,  either  wounded  or  in  death, 
he  was  immediately  carried  back,  and  his  place  in  a  mo- 
ment supplied,  while  the  event  itself  scarce  attracted  a 
word,  a  sigh,  or  even  a  glance  from  his  comrades. 

The  night  which  followed  the  last  disastrous  day,  was 
in  full  character  with  the  scenes  over  which  it  hovered. 
Alternate  clouds,  and  showers,  and  moonlight,  variegated 
its  progressing  hours.  The  Confederate  forces  had  fallen 
back,  and  the  gray  old  rocks  were  left  again  to  their  repose, 
and  to  the  gloomy  grandeur  of  their  countless  ages.    There 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  407 

was  no  change  in  them !  no  sorrow,  no  sympathy,  no  tears, 
and  yet  no  joy!  —  all  was  as  it  had  ever  been,  sombre, 
serene,  insensate,  and  eternal! 

But  there  was  an  offering  there,  suitable  for  those  great, 
old  high -priests  of  nature  to  bring  to  the  gods;  and  the 
fitness  of  it  appeased  all  past  and  coming  centuries.  The 
altars  now  will  burn  forever  with  quenchless  fires,  lighted 
up  by  the  human  life,  and  fed  by  the  libations  from  human 
hearts  !  On  their  sacrificial  ledges  lay  the  heroes  of  a  far- 
off  Southern  land,  taking  a  soldier's  rest,  on  these  moun- 
tains of  the  North.  The  wounds  had  ceased  their  bleed- 
ing, life's  swelling,  gushing  passions  had  passed  away,  and 
left  the  manly  forms  in  their  calm  repose  and  peacefulness, 
once  more,  the  images  of  their  God. 

On  the  craggy  heights,  Yankees  as  they  were,  many  a  noble 
form  with  hero  hearts,  now  in  their  throbbings  hushed,  lay 
stiff  and  stark  in  death's  last,  cold  embrace  —  worthier,  too, 
of  a  better  fate  than  that  they  found,  in  trying  to  degrade 
their  Southern  brothers. 

Throughout  the  day  there  appeared  periodic  lulls,  in  the 
great  resounding  thunders  of  artillery,  as  the  rumbling 
echoes  floated  off  on  the  sweeping  winds  and  died  away  to 
silence.  The  very  spirits  of  the  old  mountains  seemed  to 
demand  these  respites  from  the  reeking  fumes  of  human 
havoc,  to  enjoy  the  hoarse  answering  shouts  of  their  distant 
caverns  and  their  chasms.  But  ever  and  anon,  they  rose 
again  to  higher  diapasons  of  death  and  woe,  as  if  the  very 
giants  of  the  universe  were  at  war  against  each  other,  and 
hurling  great  continents  from  their  base.  These  undula- 
tions marked  the  lulling  and  the  rage  of  battle  —  now 
sinking  to  the  repose  of  peace,  then  rising  again  to  the  rush 
and  the  roar  of  the  unbridled  tempest,  and  the  vibrations 
of  the  earthquake.  In  such  moments  as  the  last,  men  like 
leaves  in  autumn  fell  —  fell  to  rise  no  more! 

Just  before  the  nightfall  of  this  awful  day,  there  came 


408  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

the  sounds  of  a  remarked  rise  in  this  storm  of  death,  from 
the  Federal  breastworks,  which  bore  upon  the  Confederate 
lines  in  that  part  of  the  field  which  'vvas  occupied  by  the 
regiment  of  Colonel  Brandon,  when,  almost  at  the  same 
moment,  that  gallant  officer,  and  his  no  less  gallant  young 
lieutenant,  Campbell,  fell  mortally  wounded. 

Thus,  on  the  wild  mountains  of  Gettysburg,  without  an 
instant  of  pain,  the  rather  eccentric  and  chivalric  Henry 
Brandon  closed  his  mixed  life  of  joyousness,  love,  grief,  bit- 
terness, regret,  and  happiness ;  and  there,  too,  the  gay  and 
handsome  young  soldier.  Lieutenant  McK.,  as  he  was  famil- 
iarly and  lovingly  called  by  his  men  and  comrades,  closed 
his  eyes  upon  the  bright  picture  of  love  and  hope,  the  dia- 
gram of  which  his  joyous  heart  had  drawn,  to  be  filled  at  a 
future  day  by  the  beautiful  girl  who  claimed  his  homage  in 
the  distant  South.  They  were  both  immediately  carried  to 
the  rear,  but  in  the  hurry  of  changing  position  and  falling 
back,  they  were  left  on  the  field ;  and  thus,  they  who  had 
been  nurtured  in  the  lap  of  ease  and  wealth,  with  every 
ill  closely  watched  and  provided  for,  w^ere  now  silent  and 
alone,  with  no  watchers  near,  but  the  dying  and  the  dead ! 
Side  by  side,  where  their  comrades  had  left  them,  two  gal- 
lant soldiers  lay  —  with  their  softly,  half-closed  eyes  still 
lingering,  as  it  were,  in  changeless  vision,  toward  their 
Southern  home ! 

Sorrowing  nature  had  seemed  to  pay  the  tribute  of  its 
grief  to  heroic  worth,  in  spangling  their  parted,  fallen  locks 
with  the  jewelled  tear-drops  of  the  morning  mists,  and  they, 
reflecting  back  to  heaven  the  glancing  moon's  pale,  cold 
ray,  as  she  now  and  then  peered  from  the  passing  midnight 
cloud,  reported  there,  two  noble  soldiers  lying  upon  the  field 
of  battle  in  normal  state!  And  then,  too,  the  countless 
stars,  glimmering  coldly  on  the  skies,  told  of  the  weeping 
angels  beyond  —  of  the  ruined  homes,  and  the  fatherless 
ones,  made  in  the  South  that  day ! 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  409 

Hold !  sexton  of  the  North  !  Strike  your  shovel  softly 
now  — two  brother  soldiers  lie  beneath  that  turf  Soldiers 
of  the  South  taking  their  hero-rest!  Ay,  handle  them 
gently  now!  Let  them  sleep!  No  slab  is  needed  there! 
History  hath  already  written  their  memorial;  the  wild-rose 
marks  the  spot,  and  angels  keep  vigils  over  their  silent 
slumbers ! 

There  was  a  mother  that  night,  who  sat  in  her  lonely 
Southern  home,  with  her  children  at  her  knees,  speaking 
with  an  aching  heart,  but  with  affected  cheerfulness,  of 
him  who  was  lying  under  the  cold  moonlight  of  the  North, 
"sleeping  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking,"  and  was  never 
again  to  cheer  that  home  with  his  happy  face,  and  gentle 
smile. 

We  will  not  disturb  the  sacred  grief  of  that  stricken 
home,  by  attempting  to  describe  the  scenes  that  ensued  upon 
the  reception  of  this  sad  intelligence.  Sorrow  had  then, 
and  since,  become  too  familiar  to  our  people  to  render  its 
details  either  a  novel,  or  pleasing  subject.  Poverty,  dejec- 
tion, political  degradation,  is  the  lot  universal  in  the  South. 
AVe  may  now  leave  the  families  of  General  Campbell,  and 
Colonel  Brandon,  to  their  own  individual  sorrows. 

Other  characters  with  whom  we  have  become  familiar  in 
the  course  of  this  skeleton-drawing  of  scenes  in  Southern  life, 
at  the  different  periods  which  they  are  intended  to  repre- 
sent, may  easily  be  imagined  to  have,  more  or  less,  partaken 
of  the  common  lot.  But  one  other  there  is  of  whom  we 
must  speak,  and  we  have  done  with  our  story;  and  we  do 
it  in  justice  to  a  faithful  creature  who  was  one  of  a  once 
faithful  race,  now— anything  else. 

It  has  been  seen  that  Colonel  Brandon  had  been  attended 
in  the  army  by  his  faithful  friend,  and  body-servant  from 
boyhood,  "  Sam  Brandon."  On  the  last  day  of  the  battle, 
he  had  been  ordered  further  to  the  rear,  in  company  with 
the  baggage-train;  but  learning  the  fate  of  his  master  on 


410  BLOOM    AND    BPwIER. 

the  return  of  the  regiment  that  night,  he  immediately  went 
in  search  of  the  litter-bearers,  and  engaged  them  to  go 
through  the  lines  with  him,  as  they  knew  the  spot  at  which 
he  was  left.  About  midnight  they  found  the  body  of  Col- 
onel Brandon,  and  promised  to  assist  "  Sam"  in  getting  it 
through ;  but  rage  and  despair  seemed  to  have  taken  pos- 
session of  the  faithful  negro,  and  he  would  consent  to 
nothing;  fearing  to  remain  longer,  they  left  him.  "Sam," 
all  alone,  knelt  down  by  his  friend  and  master,  as  he  lay 
in  the  quiet  repose  of  death,  with  the  waning  mountain 
moon,  and  the  pale  summer-night  stars  keeping  the  silent 
vigils  of  his  sweet  repose,  and  indulged  in  the  deep,  pas- 
sionate sobbings  of  heart-stricken  grief  "Oh,  my  poor 
master!  "  said  he,  "can't  you  speak  one  word  to  your  own 
old  nigger,  SSam  Brandon?'  Oh,  speak,  speak  to  me,  my 
dear  master,  and  tell  me  something  to  do  for  you  !  "  Occa- 
sionally smoothing  back  the  matted  hair  from  his  broad, 
full  brow,  and  feeling  the  marble-like  chill  of  death  upon 
it,  would  again  burst  out  in  renewed  expressions  of  grief — 
"Oh,  sir!  will  you  never  be  warm  to  this  ole  hand  agin? 
Can't  I  never  go  wid  you  —  be  wid  you — nuss  you,  and 
talk  to  you  no  mo  ?  Oh,  what  v.'ill  cum  of  your  po  ole 
Sam !  What  is  to  cum  of  my  po,  good  mistis  away  doAvn 
home,  an'  her  little  childern,  too  !  Oh,  better  for  every 
nigger  in  the  wide  worl',  be  a  slave  as  he  orter  be,  an'  for 
every  mean  Yankee  in  these  ole  mountains  to  be  dead  an' 
stinkin,  than  for  my  po  master  to  be  in  this  here  fix  !  Oh, 
speak !  speak  to  me,  Mass  Henry !  say  sumthin !  I  shill  die 
right  here  ef  you  don't !  My  po  good  mistis  will  say  I  took 
no  care  ov  you  ;  it  orter  to  be  yo  ole  Sam,  not  you.  Mass 
Henry!" 

Continuing  this  strain  of  uncontrolled  lamentation  till 
the  very  dawn  of  day,  he  was  espied  by  a  distant  retiring 
sentinel,  who  came  up  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  strange 
exhibition,  and  asked  him  "  what  he  meant,"     Up  to  this 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  411 

moment,  "  Sam  "  had  not  even  lieard  his  approach,  but  with 
the  words  reaching  his  ear,  he  rose  from  tiie  side  of  the 
dead  body,  with  the  quick  fierceness  of  a  tiger  disturbed  in 
his  lair,  and,  in  an  instant,  drawing  his  side-knife,  grasped 
the  unsuspecting  soldier  by  the  throat,  and  drove  it  to  his 
heart.  "That's  what  I  meant,  sir,  and  take  it,  and  take  it 
agin!"  driving  the  knife  deeper  and  deeper  into  his  body 
with  every  word;  tlien  hurling  him,  with  only  a  negro's 
power,  as  far  as  possible  from  him,  said  —  "go  to  hell,  and 
tell  'em  Colonel  Henry  Brandon's  boy,  'Sam  Brandon,' 
sent  you  dar !  "  Then  wiping  the  blade  quickly,  drove  it 
deep  into  his  own  heart,  and  fell  at  his  master's  side,  say- 
ing, "  I  am  wid  you,  ^lass  Henry  ;  what  mus'  I  do  for  you  ? 
I  dun  him  right,"  and  expired. 

They  were  never  brought  home,  and  we  suppose  lie 
together  still ;  and  there  they  should  ever  remain,  as  an  evi- 
dence on  their  own  soil,  of  Northern  slander  against  South- 
ern masters.  "  Sam  Brandon"  was  one  of  that  race,  whose 
many  noble,  social  traits  have  been  more  than  destroyed 
by  Puritan  philanthropy ;  and  returned  to  heathenism,  to 
infamy,  to  aggression,  to  treachery,  and  to  a  hate  of  him  who 
alone  had  cultivated  and  brought  him  out  from  darkness. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

'•'What  though  the  field  be  lost? 
All  13  not  lost." 

THE  entire  incidents  of  the  war  are  too  recent  not  to  be 
familiar  to  all  intelligent  readers,  and  we  have  only 
touched  upon  them  to  illustrate  some  of  the  traits  of  South- 
ern character;  nor  in  anything  we  have  said,  have  we 
aspired  to  accuracy  of  detail  —  we  only  pretend  to  have 
a&serted  leading  facts. 


412  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Its  real  history,  both  in  regard  to  facts  and  to  the  phil- 
osophic reasons  at  its  base,  will  be  written  at  some  future 
day,  by  a  pen  with  a  golden  light  to  illumine  its  traces, 
when  the  world  wnll  be  better  prepared  than  now  to  weigh 
the  great  equities  which  it  assuredly  possessed  ;  even  while 
the  political  principle  upon  which  they  depended  who 
declared  it,  may  be  condemned,  as  incompatible  with  those 
which  necessarily  underlie  all  government,  cohesion,  indi- 
visibility, authority ! 

The  martial  glory  of  the  army  of  Virginia  culminated 
at  Gettysburg  —  its  power  was  shadowed  by  the  result;  and 
though  it  subsequently  displayed  its  accustomed  gallantry 
in  several  of  the  most  sanguinary  battles  of  the  war,  yet 
they  were  but  sanguinary,  and  only  pictured  martial  des- 
peration ;  its  cause  was  falling,  even  its  victories  were  not 
followed  by  recuperation.  It  waned,  and  continued  to  wane 
in  strength,  till  the  last  and  saddest  scene  of  all,  at  Appo- 
mattox Court-house,  where  its  glory  darkened  forever ! 

Here,  a  few  thousand  of  that  once  gallant  army,  who 
had  waved  the  "  Bonny  Blue  Flag  "  in  triumph  over  the 
countless  hosts  of  the  enemy,  on  many  of  the  most  ter- 
rific fields  of  modern  warfare;  and  had  sung  victori- 
ously the  sweet  little  song  commemorative  of  its  honor, 
now  in  a  state  of  actual  starvation  —  hushed  the  song, 
stacked  their  arms  to  the  conqueror,  and  left  forever  the 
scenes  of  their  early  renown,  and  their  future  immor- 
tality. 

General  Hood,  after  the  fall  of  Atlanta,  had  gathered  up 
the  wretched  remnants  of  Johnston's  forces,  and  in  the  des- 
peration of  the  time,  set  out  on  an  invasion  of  the  State  of 
Tennessee ;  and  with  these  starved  and  naked  troops  fought 
one  of  the  bloodiest  battles  of  the  war,  at  Franklin,  win- 
ning for  himself  and  men  one  of  the  brightest  chaplets 
of  martial  honor  that  had  yet  crowned  a  Southern  soldier's 
brow,  during  the  whole  four  years  of  splendid,  tragic  folly. 


BLOOM    AND    BRIER.  413 

Moving  thence  upon  Xashville,  he  there  annihilated  his 
army !  Thus  ended  the  career  of  those  whose  peerless  gal- 
lantry in  every  pitched  battle  of  this  bloody,  four -years 
struggle,  had  won  a  renown  which  neither  malice,  nor  time, 
nor  result,  can  obscure :  their  deeds,  their  fame,  and  their 
fate,  belong  to  the  blazing  glories  of  history,  and  its  faith- 
ful muse  will  preserve  them  forever !  The  genius,  too,  of 
"  Wild  Romance  "  will  weave  the  brightest  garlands  from 
their  names  and  knighthood ;  and  Song  will  send  legends 
of  their  chivalry  adown  the  current  of  ages,  in  the  weird 
rapture  of  its  notes,  and  the  heroic  measures  of  its  flowing 
verse! 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"They  practised  falsehood  under  saintly  show, 
Deep  malice  to  conceal." 

THE  spring  of  1865  was  signalized  by  the  final  over- 
throw of  the  Confederacy,  and  by  the  first  of  June, 
the  proud,  the  boastful,  the  defiant,  ay,  the  victorious  South ! 
was  wearing,  well-set,  the  galling  yoke  of  subjugation,  with 
the  Puritan  walking  triumphantly  through  the  land,  and 
marking  his  way  by  a  subversion  of  all  the  foundations 
upon  which  her  society,  her  civilization,  her  wealth,  and 
her  imperiality,  had  ever  reposed. 

Anarchy,  chaos,  idleness,  dissoluteness,  and  debauchery, 
followed  upon  his  march ;  but  these  were  to  him  the  sign, 
evidence,  and  emblem  of  his  sway  and  authority,  and  sweet 
was  his  enjoyment :  his  want  of  true  game  and  chivalry 
was  to  him  the  impervious  shield  against  the  natural  shame, 
of  having  so  long  been  engaged  in  the  effort  to  place  his 
foot  upon  the  neck  of  the  hated  South.  The  past  was  for- 
gotten ;  it  was  the  present  he  enjoyed,  however  he  had  ob- 
tained it, 
35* 


414  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

Nor  yet  did  the  disruption  of  the  whole  framework  of 
Southern  society,  industry,  and  order,  bring  mortification 
for  his  want  of  executive  statesmanship ;  his  pharisaical 
conceit  was  an  all-sufficient  coat  of  mail  to  the  oxhided- 
ness  of  his  sentiments  and  character. 

The  Pandemonium  scenes,  as  drawn  by  Milton,  were  as 
the  prefiguration  of  those  now  in  the  South  —  at  least,  so 
far  as  a  parallel  can  be  drawn  between  the  pictures  of  an 
eternal  and  a  temporal  hell.  It  was  the  full  fruitage  of 
the  Harper's  Ferry  midnight  massacre  idea,  which,  we  boldly 
assert,  every  Puritan  who  was  now  trampling  on  the  South, 
had  endorsed  ! 

Answer,  ye  descendants  of  the  pious  Pilgrims  —  ye  are 
in  office  now,  and  cannot  be  afraid  —  have  we  charged  ye 
falsely  ? 

The  Southern  country,  which  had,  in  the  early  days  of 
primeval  nature,  presented  pictures  both  of  grandeur  and 
beauty  in  its  landscapes,  and  which,  through  all  the  changes 
it  had  undergone  while  being  subjected  to  the  hand  of 
industry,  still  presented  those  of  an  affluent  abundance, 
comfort,  and  elegance,  beyond  any  country  of  the  earth, 
had  now  wellnigh  become  a  waste  wilderness.  Large  ex- 
tents of  territory,  which  had  once  delighted  the  eye  of  the 
traveller,  the  amateur,  or  the  lordly  proprietor,  with  their 
combined  loveliness  of  scene  and  industrial  luxuriance, 
had  returned  to  a  state  of  nature,  without  any  of  Nature's 
beauty.  Over  the  broad  fields,  so  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  there  rested  an  aspect,  wild,  weird,  and  strange. 
That  peculiar  hollow  ring  which  nature  ever  has  while 
uninvaded  by  man,  had  again  resumed  its  normal  note. 
The  happy  laborer's  merry  song  no  longer  rose  upon  the 
evening  air.  No  longer  was  heard  the  tuneful  w^histle, 
and  the  long,  musical  call  of  the  herd-boy,  as  he  wandered 
in  search  of  his  flocks  ;  and  no  more  were  the  happy  young 
people  mixing  in  those  Arcadian  scenes  of  early  joy  and 


BLOOM     AND     BRIER.  415 

beauty.  All,  nil  had  gone  —  many  ,  alas  !  too  many,  never 
to  return  !  It  was  as  a  world  deserted  ;  and  well  did  Na- 
ture sing  its  mournful  dirge. 

Whither  have  those  people  gone?  Who  wrought  this 
terrible  change?  Answer  again,  ye  brave  and  pious  Pu- 
ritans! Was  it  not  your  preacher,  your  charlatan,  and 
your  statesman — your  robber  and  your  soldier,  who  did 
it?  Yes!  Then  remember  that  turrets  and  domes  mantling 
and  adorning  palatial  halls  have  fallen  before  to-day.  Ret- 
ribution is  God's  own  law  —  none  escape  it. 

But  the  great  Strife  of  modern  times  no  longer  flings 
its  banners  to  the  breeze;  its  wild  lightnings  have  ceased 
to  flash  their  fires  along  the  bristling  ranks  of  its  martial 
hosts ;  its  loud  thunders  have  gone  back  to  their  caverned 
homes  and  their  sea-girt  fortress  walls,  and  Peace  once 
more  waves  her  white  pennons  over  our  Southern  homes, 
and  soothes  the  flaming  passions  back  to  rest ;  and  they 
who  long  had  worn  the  red  sash  and  the  plume,  and  rode 
the  foaming  steed  with  silver  bit,  no  longer  dash  their 
squadrons  into  the  jaws  of  death ;  but  have  shown  their 
true  character  and  manliness,  by  a  perfect  willingness  to 
abide  the  future,  which  they,  to  some  extent,  brought  upon 
themselves.  And  the  people,  too,  have  shown  a  noble 
energy  in  striving  against  the  sweeping  tendencies  of  their 
circumstances  and  ruined  fortunes.  All  was  lost,  save 
honor  —  nothing  was  left  but  the  soil ;  and  men  and  chil- 
dren, born  to  w^ealth,  and  ease,  and  elevated  station,  and 
wholly  unaccustomed  to  the  exposures  of  a  severe  tropic 
sun,  have  gone  to  its  tillage  ;  while  the  drudgeries  of  tlie 
household  have  been  undertaken  by  females,  young  and  old, 
who,  by  strength,  habit,  and  constitution,  were  wholly  un- 
fitted for  their  performance.  Yet,  with  all  these  untoward 
circumstances,  our  people  will  rise  again  to  their  normal 
status  —  Nature  meets  us,  and  points  the  w^ay.  Foreign 
oppression  has  already  done  its  vrorst.     With  eflbrt,  sym- 


416  BLOOM    AND    BRIER. 

pathy  and  regard  for  each  other,  we  soon  may  shout,  "  Sic 
itur  ad  astra ! "  Men  who,  for  four  years,  stepped  to  the 
step  of  the  soldier,  by  the  martial  roll  of  the  drum  and  the 
shrill  music  of  the  fife,  while  bearing  the  "Bonny  Blue  Flag" 
on  to  victory  over  a  hundred  battle-fields,  and  stanched 
their  bleeding  wounds  with  its  riddled  remnants,  may  fall 
—  have  fallen  ;  but  will  rise  again.  The  iron-heeled  horse- 
man, who  wildly  came  and  trod  down  the  blue-bell  on  the 
hill,  and  bruised  the  violet  in  the  valley,  could  not  take 
to  himself  their  fragrance,  nor  their  germ :  for  still  the 
Southern  sun  doth  gloriously  gild  the  matin  sky  —  still 
doth  ride  along  in  midday  splendor,  and  still  descendeth 
to  western  deep.  Spring  still  doth  come ;  and  the  blue- 
bell still  bloometh  upon  the  hill.  The  violet  again  will 
smile,  away  do^vn  in  the  sunlit  valley ;  and  the  young 
maidens  long  will  gather  them  to  strew  upon  the  old  grass- 
green  graves,  in  sweetest  memory  of  their  brave  young 
lovers,  while  adorning  the  breasts  of  the  living  with  their 
modest  beauty. 


THE   END. 


:^v^:;^^ 


c  > 


■ir. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 

428 

